Arkham Through the Ages, Part II
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: Similar to my "Gotham Through the Ages" series, these stories take Batman and his rogues gallery and place them in different time periods. Only this time, they're not confined to Gotham. Part II is a tale of medieval England, where Arkham Forest in Nottinghamshire is the home of the notorious outlaw Robbin' Joker and his band of Merry Men...
1. Chapter 1

**Arkham Through the Ages, Part II**

 **Gotham, a small village in Nottinghamshire, England – 1192**

It was spring, and the trees of Arkham Forest were a lush, leafy green, as the elusive English sun pierced through them like bright arrows of burnished gold. The sun had only just risen, and in the dim light of dawn, a man sat perched in the branches of a tree, keen green eyes scanning the forest floor for any signs of life, his bow notched and ready.

"C'mon, there's gotta be something," he muttered to himself. "Critters can't resist coming out on the one sunny day in this country."

His stomach rumbled loudly, and the man shushed it. "You're gonna scare away the food!" he snapped at himself. "I know you're hungry," he continued, looking around the forest carefully. "Everybody in this goddamn town is hungry. Heck, maybe the animals have all given up and left – even they know what a dump this place is."

He removed the green feather from his purple hat, and began to chew on the end of it carefully. "Or maybe they've gone off to join crazy King Dickie on his crusade," he continued. "Only an animal would be dumb enough to believe that was a good idea. Or so you would think. Apparently Dickie's raised quite an army by convincing 'em that God will reward them for their efforts. I tell ya, if I ever wanna convince people of anything, all I gotta do is tell 'em some invisible guy in the sky is gonna reward 'em, and they'll believe anything I say. Quite a joke, really. Quite a joke."

He spat out the feather, replacing it in his hat. "Mind you, the repercussions for England ain't been a joke," he muttered to himself. "You'd have thought King Dickie was bad enough, but now you've got his crazy younger brother in charge of things, taxing the people outta house and home in order to pay for Dickie's little God-approved adventure. From one ego-driven megalomaniac to another. I tell ya, this monarchy thing is vastly overrated. As is this whole feudal system, really. Dunno why the medieval period is considered such a romantic time. We're all starving to death, if we're not unfortunate enough to die from the plague first. There's no concept of hygiene, so everybody stinks, the food is awful, and our lives are short, brutal, and miserable. I sure hope things improve by the 21st-century, I tell ya." He thought for a moment. "Well, maybe the hygiene will, but the other stuff probably won't. Not much ever changes, and people are always the same, no matter what century they live in."

He heard a rustling in the undergrowth, and at that moment, a deer emerged from the bushes. The man drew in his breath sharply, drawing back the arrow. "Come to papa," he whispered, eyeing his line of sight along the arrow. He released the bow, and the arrow struck the deer full in the chest. It fell down dead.

The man cackled to himself, jumping down from the tree and dusting off his purple tunic and hose. "I eat tonight!" he exclaimed, happily. "And for the next couple weeks! Thank you, invisible guy in the sky – I'll never doubt you again," he chuckled, heading over to the deer and lifting the carcass over his shoulders.

He suddenly heard the pounding of horse hooves, and a second later, two guards bearing the royal insignia appeared in front of him. "Ho there!" called one, dismounting.

"What did you call me?" demanded the man in purple.

"Nothing so far, but I _will_ call you a criminal, and a thief," snapped the guard. "What do you mean by killing the king's deer?"

"Hey, it's a free forest, pal!" snapped the man in purple.

"It is not!" snapped the guard. "Nothing in this kingdom is free. Everything is the property of King John, including the deer! You have no right to kill it, and you will be arrested and thrown in the dungeon for so doing!"

"Look, I'm just trying to not starve to death," retorted the man in purple. "If that means killing one or two of the king's deer, that's what I'm gonna do, and the king can lump it. I'm sure he has plenty more deer where this one came from, and he ain't starving to death. So I think I need it more than him."

"How dare you, insolent cur?!" demanded the guard. "How dare you speak of his majesty like that?! You were only to be arrested and imprisoned, but treasonous talk like that warrants an execution!"

"You wanna execute me for talking?" demanded the man in purple. "What is this, North Korea? You don't get it now, but that'll be a hilarious joke in about 900 years…"

"Arrest him," said the guard, gesturing to his companion. "And take the deer to his majesty to feast upon."

The man in purple dropped the deer carcass and had his bow out and notched in an instant. "You come any closer, and you're getting an arrow through your skull," he muttered at the guards.

"You wouldn't dare kill the king's men!" snapped the guard.

"Men, deer, it's all the same to me," said the man in purple, shrugging. "Except I don't eat men. Not until the king's taxes get higher, anyway."

The guard glared at him. "Who in heaven's name do you think you are, clown?"

"Hey, I resemble that remark!" snapped the man in purple, tilting his hat back so that his bleached white skin, grinning red lips, and bright green hair were revealed. "Folks call me the Joker. But I ain't joking about this. Get back on your horses, forget you ever saw this, and I'll let you live. But try to arrest me, and you're dead."

"If you kill us, there will be no forgiveness," snapped the guard. "You'll be an outlaw until the end of your days."

"To be honest, with the way law-abiding citizens are treated these days, I can't say being an outlaw is a particular threat," retorted the Joker. "Might make a nice change, actually. You take whatever freedom you can get when you live in a rigid little society like this, even if that freedom means you're on the wrong side of the law. And I'm sure I'm not the only one who thinks that, actually. Now you can choose to be law-abiding citizens and die, or you can be outlaws and live. So what's it gonna be?"

The guards shared a look, and then drew their swords, racing toward him. The Joker fired off two arrows in an instant, both of which pierced their skulls. They were dead before they got two feet.

"I warned 'em," he sighed, slinging his bow back over his shoulder. He went over to examine the bodies, and removed their admittedly small pouches of gold from around their waists. "Every little helps, as the saying goes," he said, pocketing them. "Now, what am I gonna do with the evidence?" he asked himself, hands on hips. "I guess I could go through all that effort of burying the bodies, but frankly I'd rather leave 'em here as a warning to other busybodies who wanna poke their nose in my business."

He nodded. "To be honest, that outlaw shtick actually sounds pretty good," he said. "And where better place to be one than here in Arkham Forest? Out among nature, safe from the prying eyes of the law. And a forest is a great place for an ambush in case any more troublemakers come my way."

He nodded again. "Hey, thanks for the idea, pal!" he said, slapping the dead guard on the back. "This new direction in my life could be just what I need! A fresh start, with a new identity. Instead of the Joker, I'm now gonna be Robbin' Joker. Get it, Robbin' Joker?"

He cackled madly to himself, and it echoed around the forest. "Yes sir, I think this'll do nicely," he said, picking up the deer again and heading off into the woods.


	2. Chapter 2

A few days later, Robbin' Joker had established a small camp in the forest clearing, and set off to explore his new home. He took the scenic route through the woods, heading for the town of Gotham to pick up some supplies with the money he'd taken from the guards.

He came to a stream, and was about to cross the log that lay across it, when a figure suddenly stepped out from the undergrowth on the other side, the strangest figure Robbin' Joker had ever seen.

He was a man, but half of his face was horribly scarred, as if he had suffered some terrible accident. Nevertheless, he looked strong and capable, and he held a large staff in his hand as one regular eye and one deformed eye glared coldly at Robbin' Joker.

"If you want to cross the stream, you have to pay the toll," the half-faced man growled.

"Toll?" repeated Robbin' Joker. "You mean you want money for the use of public property? Who do you think you are, the king?"

The half-faced man spat on the ground. "No," he growled. "I followed that crazy bastard into his crusade, and look what I have to show for it," he said, gesturing to his face.

"Yeah, that's pretty nasty," agreed Robbin' Joker. "I'd sue if I were you, and if this country had developed any kinda legal system yet. What happened to your face exactly?"

The half-faced man glared at him. "The heathens dropped boiling oil on us," he muttered. "I was lucky to survive, if one can call this lucky. I'm not fit to live among civilized folk – everyone sees my face and runs off in terror. But I will not starve, so I make a living intimidating people who want to cross the stream and exacting a toll from them. So pay up," he said, raising the staff threateningly.

"Sorry, pal, I don't respond well to extortion," retorted Robbin' Joker. "Well, not unless I'm the one doing the extorting, anyway. And I ain't afraid of you, your face, or that phallic symbol you're so dependent upon after your psychological emasculation from the war," he said, nodding at the staff. "In fact, I bet mine is bigger," he said, picking up a decent sized stick from the forest floor.

The half-faced man snorted. "You wish to pit your skills against a trained fighter? Lay on, then," he said, holding the staff out in front of him.

"Okay, you asked for it," sighed Robbin' Joker. "And forget all that stuff I said about these being phallic symbols, or this is gonna get really creepy."

The two men crossed staves, hitting and beating each other back, but they were fairly evenly matched in terms of skill. At last, Robbin' Joker managed to swing a blow that knocked the half-face man off his feet, and into the water below. He emerged from the stream, sputtering, as Robbin' Joker smiled down at him, leaning on his staff.

"I think that's a win for me, pal," he said, holding out his hand. The half-faced man reluctantly took it, nodding slowly.

"I bow to a skill superior to my own," he said, grudgingly.

"Hey, don't feel bad," said Joker, twirling the staff. "Not everyone can use their staff as well as I can. And that may or may not be a euphemism!" he chuckled. "I'm Robbin' Joker, by the way."

"Robin Joker?" repeated the half-faced man.

"No, Robbin' Joker," he said. "I don't wanna be associated with the name Robin in any way, just for health reasons. All the guys I know named Robin don't tend to live long, mostly thanks to me," he said, smiling.

"My name is Harvey Dent," said the half-faced man. "But people tend to call me Two-Face now, for obvious reasons. I have embraced the name – people are going to mock me for my deformity anyway, so I have chosen to wear the label with pride, like armor."

"That's a good attitude," said Robbin' Joker, nodding. "And hey, instead of guarding this bridge and extorting money from passersby, why don't you come join me at my camp? I could use a good fighter like you, and there's gonna be more profit in my line of work."

"What is your line of work?" asked Two-Face.

"The clue's in the name Robbin' Joker," he retorted.

"You…catch birds?" asked Two-Face, slowly.

Joker sighed heavily. "No, I'm an outlaw," he said. "I got in trouble for stealing the king's deer, and decided to embrace the lifestyle. And I intend to steal from any of the king's men who come through Arkham Forest."

"I would gladly join you in stealing from the king's men," said Two-Face, nodding. "The king owes me after my suffering for his war. I'll just consider it compensation for my injury."

"Great, it's settled!" said Robbin' Joker, beaming. "I'm just heading into Gotham to pick up some supplies, if you wanna tag along."

"The citizens will flee in terror when they see me," said Two-Face.

"Yep, should be entertaining," agreed Robbin' Joker, nodding. "Anyway, that's their problem, not yours. You coming or not?"

Two-Face shrugged, and followed Robbin' Joker through the forest. When they reached the edge of the woods and the borders of Gotham, they noticed a large band of the king's guards ransacking a house, while a couple of them held a struggling woman with dark hair.

"Let go of me!" shrieked the dark-haired woman. "I've told you, I don't have the money to pay the king's taxes!"

"A likely story, wench," snapped one of the king's guards. "Anyway, a quick search of your home will tell us the truth."

The guards emerged at that moment, carrying out several chests and jars, which they knocked open to reveal a horde of gold and jewels.

"His highness suspected there was a thief in his household, stealing from the treasury," sneered the guard who held the woman. "Well, what do you have to say now, wench?" he demanded.

The woman shrugged, suddenly cool and calm. "I lied," she said.

At that moment, a black shape leapt on the guard, scratching him across the face. It was a black cat. The guard roared in pain, reeling back, as the woman lashed out at the other guard, kicking him in the groin. She seized a length of tarred rope and used it as a whip, snapping at the guards who tried to attack her, as the cat continued to scratch and bite, hissing at the guards, and was quickly joined by other felines. The cats appeared to be protecting the woman, forming a circle around her and not letting anyone near.

"We should probably lend a hand," commented Robbin' Joker, raising his bow. "Or an arrow."

Two-Face nodded, and while Robbin' Joker shot arrow after arrow at the guards, he charged into the fray with his staff, bludgeoning them. When the guards were either dead, unconscious, or scattered, the cats gradually began to disperse, leaving the woman with the whip alone. She glared at Robbin' Joker and Two-Face.

"I didn't need your help!" she snapped.

"That's not what it looked like from where we were standing," retorted Robbin' Joker. "Where'd you get so much gold?"

"The king's treasury," retorted the woman. "I used to be a maid in his palace, barely earning a living while he sat among wealth and riches. So I helped myself to some and fled. Unfortunately, he managed to track me all the way to Gotham, but my devoted pets were ready for him," she said, gently stroking the black cat, who nuzzled its head against her, purring.

"Yeah, you…got a lotta cats," commented Robbin' Joker. "You're some kinda cat lady, huh?"

She glared at him. "There are those who call me Catwoman," she retorted. "But my name is Selina Kyle."

"This is Harvey Dent, but you can call him Two-Face," said Robbin' Joker, introducing his companion. "And I'm Robbin' Joker."

"Robin Joker?" repeated Catwoman.

"No, Robbin' Joker," he said. "Robbing like stealing, get it? Because I'm a thief too."

"Not a very good one, if your name reveals your occupation," retorted Catwoman. "The whole point of thievery is that you're supposed to get away with it undetected."

"Then you ain't a very good thief either," said Robbin' Joker. "But you look fairly successful," he said, nodding at the wealth. "And you seem to be able to take care of yourself, and fight pretty well. But you know they're gonna be back for you, right?"

"Yes, I can't stay in Gotham," sighed Catwoman, petting the cat gently. "My pets and I will just have to move on."

"Or you could come live with us in Arkham Forest," said Robbin' Joker. "I'm sorta looking to put together a band of outlaws to rob from the king. If you wanna join, you're welcome to. No one would be able to find you in the forest – you'd be safe there."

She glared at him. "And what would you be expecting in return for your protection?" she demanded.

"Well, you'd have to broadly follow my orders," he said, shrugging. "But we'd split the takes evenly, so I don't think that's too bad a trade-off. And you could even bring all your cats. It's a forest, so I don't have to clean up after them, so I don't mind pets."

She nodded slowly. "Very well. We will see how it goes. But these valuables are all mine," she said, kneeling down to collect the gold and jewels together. "I stole them by myself, so we don't share them."

"Fair enough," said Robbin' Joker, reaching down to pet the cat. "Boy, future generations are gonna be happy with my choice of associates, because it's all equal opportunities with me. I already got the required female quota by finding a token wench…ouch!" he shouted, as the cat bit down on his hand.

"Two things," said Catwoman, picking up the cat. "Don't touch my cats, and don't call me wench."

"Noted," muttered Robbin' Joker, glaring at his bleeding hand. "But if we run short on food, I don't have a problem with seeing what cat meat tastes like," he growled under his breath as he followed Two-Face and Catwoman back to Arkham Forest.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a few weeks later when the peacefulness of the village of Gotham was punctuated by shouts of, "Burn the witch!"

In the village church, the local friar sighed, glancing up from his manuscript. "Not again," he muttered, standing up. "For the love of our Lord and Savior, can't this town go one week without an attempted witch burning?!"

The door to the church was thrown open. "Friar Tetch, we've found a witch. May we have a burning?" asked one of the citizens of the town.

"No, for the last time!" snapped Friar Tetch.

"But our last friar let us burn as many witches as we wanted to," protested the man.

"I don't care," retorted Friar Tetch. "Nobody is burning witches on my watch. It is not the Lord's way."

"Our last friar said it was the Lord's way," retorted the man.

"Yes, there's more than one school of thought as to what the Lord's way is," retorted Friar Tetch. "Mine just happens to be correct. Now let me see this so-called witch, who I assure you is just a normal woman."

"It's a man," said the man.

"Oh. Well, I assure you, he's just a normal man," said Friar Tetch.

"He is not! He turned me into a newt!" exclaimed the man.

"A newt?" repeated Friar Tetch, looking at him skeptically.

The man shrugged. "I got better," he replied.

Friar Tetch shook his head, and then followed the man out of the church and into the village square, where an impromptu stake had been set up. A man was tied to it, while the villagers piled wood and straw and anything else flammable along the bottom.

"Everyone, please, this isn't necessary!" exclaimed Friar Tetch. "God does not ask you to burn witches – He only asks that you live a peaceful, good life in His service."

"Burning witches is His service," retorted another villager, and the others murmured their agreement.

"I'm not a witch, for the last time!" snapped the man tied to the stake.

"If you're not a witch, how come when my little girl was sick, and you gave her some herbs, she got better?" demanded another man.

"Because it was medicine!" snapped the man tied to the stake. "It's supposed to make her better – that's how it works! And I must say, if this is the thanks I get, I won't be helping to save anyone else's children in future!"

"There, you see? This man is a healer, not a witch," said Friar Tetch. "So release him at once."

"If he's not a witch, how come he knows how to heal people?" demanded a man. "How come he knows things other people don't know?"

"Because I, unlike most of you, can read," snapped the man tied to the stake. "And I also observe and experiment to find answers to the questions that I have, rather than just accepting everything as inexplicable. It's all part of what I call the scientific process."

"Sounds like witchcraft to me," said a man, and the others murmured their agreement again. "We should probably burn him just to be safe."

Cheers rose up at this. "No, for the last time!" shouted Friar Tetch over the noise. "I do not condone witch burning in this parish! And Friar Nygma only did until he was accused of being a witch himself for being smarter than everyone else, and then he made quite a hasty retreat, didn't he? Taking most of the precious relics of Gotham with him – I honestly suspect he only joined the church in order to have the power to tell people what to do, because he'll be burning in hell for his sins. Thievery is against God's sacred commandments."

"So is witchcraft," spoke up a man, and the enthusiastic murmuring started again.

"There is nothing in the commandments about witchcraft!" snapped Friar Tetch. "Doesn't anyone listen to my sermons?! The commandments say no killing, thieving, coveting, adultery, idolatry, blasphemy, but no mention of witchcraft at all. Therefore it is not my priority, and therefore, as head of the church in this town, I demand that you release this man."

"Or we could set him on fire, and if he manages to survive, that would prove he's a witch," said one.

"And if he didn't?" demanded Friar Tetch.

The man shrugged. "He goes to heaven, I suppose."

"That's a self-defeating test," retorted Friar Tetch.

"Yes, it's not at all in keeping with the scientific process," agreed the man tied to the stake.

"See, Friar Tetch, he's speaking in tongues again!" exclaimed one.

"Using words you are unfamiliar with is not speaking in tongues," snapped Friar Tetch. "Good Lord, this town is a madhouse," he sighed. "I had heard stories about the place, of course, but I couldn't imagine any of them were true. They seemed as likely as a fantasy world with talking rabbits and smiling cats…"

"Please, Friar Tetch, we haven't had a good witchburning in months!" whined one. "How else are we supposed to encourage and reinforce loyalty and obedience to God?"

"Perhaps by going to church, listening to my sermons, and minding your own business!" snapped Friar Tetch. "If nobody's going to untie him, I'll just do it myself. Now off you go, everyone – no burnings today, or ever."

The crowd dispersed, grumbling to themselves. "I'm so dreadfully sorry about that," sighed Friar Tetch as he untied the man. "They're very enthusiastic about witch burnings."

"I gathered that," said the man, dryly. "And I will, of course, be taking my skills as a healer elsewhere after this."

"That's a shame," said Friar Tetch. "There are rumors of the black death from abroad, and one can't be too careful. I mean, of course I advocate the healing power of prayer, but I've never seen anything wrong with giving God a little hand if we have the knowledge."

"You seem like a strangely enlightened friar," said the man.

"I do mostly just read all day, since few people here are actually interested in my services," said Friar Tetch, shrugging. "My name's Tetch, by the way, Friar Jervis Tetch."

"Jonathan Crane," said the man, nodding at him. "I'd like to thank you for rescuing me."

"Oh please, it was nothing," said Friar Tetch. "Witch burning is such a barbaric practice. It's nearly the 13th-century, after all – we should be more civilized."

"You would think so, in the modern age," agreed Crane. "But I doubt even civilized places can avoid their fair share of angry mobs."

"Too true," sighed Friar Tetch. "Can I offer you a cup of tea back at the church?"

"What's tea?" asked Crane, puzzled.

"It's a luxury drink," said Friar Tetch. "But the church manages to get ahold of many luxuries thanks to these crusades, and tea is one of them. Follow me – you'll love it."

"Aw, man, did we miss the witch burning?" asked a voice behind them. "This is all your fault, Cat Lady! I wanted to see some high quality entertainment, like the horrible murder of innocents, and you make us miss it because you're too busy fixing your hair, just like a wench!"

"I was feeding my cats!" snapped a female voice. "And I told you never to call me wench!"

Friar Tetch and Crane turned to see a clown, a woman, and a half-faced man standing behind them. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but there was no witch burning, and there will be no witch burning on my watch!" snapped Friar Tetch.

"You must be the new friar," said the clown, making a face. "Man, I want Nygma back, and I never thought I'd say that. But at least he knew good quality entertainment when he saw it."

"Well, Friar Nygma is gone. I'm Friar Tetch, and I'm in charge of the parish of Gotham now, and I say no more witch burnings."

"Gee, nothing will attract people to the church like taking away their fun," sighed the clown, sarcastically. "That's what you religious types never get. If you want people to follow you, you gotta give 'em the old razzle dazzle, not do your whole fire and brimstone threats, shave your head, and never have sex. That's not at all an appealing lifestyle."

"Maybe not for some," retorted Friar Tetch. "But some of us appreciate a life of quiet contemplation."

"I guess you do get a lotta quiet if you refrain from relationships with women. Buncha nags," agreed the clown. "No offense," he added, nodding at the woman. "Speaking of nags, what happened to the witch?"

"I'm right here," retorted Crane.

"Oh. You're the witch?" asked the clown, skeptically. "Aren't witches usually girls?"

"They don't discriminate in Gotham," sighed Friar Tetch. "Anyone who seems remotely out of place or different, they'll try and burn."

The clown sighed. "Well, if the show's been canceled, we should probably get back to Arkham Forest before someone sees Harvey's face and tries to burn him."

"They could just as easily try to burn you, you know!" snapped the two-faced man.

"Arkham Forest?" repeated Friar Tetch. "You're not that band of outlaws who's taken up residency there, are you? That's all this town's been talking about since I arrived."

"Yep, that's us!" chuckled the clown. "Robbin' Joker and his Merry Men!"

"They don't look very merry," commented Crane.

"And there's only one man, not including yourself," pointed out Friar Tetch.

"Technicalities," said Robbin' Joker, waving his hand.

"Why do you call yourself Robin Joker?" asked Crane.

"It's Robbin' Joker, and it's because I'm a thief," retorted Robbin' Joker. "It's a joke. Get it?"

"No," retorted Crane. "What do birds have to do with thievery?"

"No, Robbin', it's a pun, genius!" snapped Robbin' Joker.

"I don't approve of thievery," said Friar Tetch. "Unless you're doing something like robbing from the rich to give to the poor. Is that what you're doing?"

"Well… _I'm_ poor, so yeah, kinda," agreed Robbin' Joker. "But I don't discriminate. I'll rob from anyone, rich or poor. It's all about the freedom for me. And the fun, of course."

"I don't understand how robbing people can be fun," said Crane. "But the freedom part I suppose I do. You probably don't get attacked by people who attempt to burn you for being a witch."

"Not so far," agreed Robbin' Joker. "Because, y'know, I'm not a girl, and that's what most witches are."

"Shut up!" snapped Crane. "Anyway, I'm not a witch. I'm a healer. My name is Jonathan Crane."

"Hey, can I call you Little Johnny?" asked Robbin' Joker, excitedly. "That would be great! And I'm pretty sure also fairly accurate," he laughed.

"I don't know what that's supposed to mean, and I honestly don't want to," retorted Crane. "But no, you can't, because my name is Jonathan Crane, so that's what I will be called. At least, it will be if you ever want to be healed by me at any point."

"A healer, eh?" repeated Robbin' Joker thoughtfully. "Now that might be a useful person to have in our merry band, if you'd like to join us."

"And why would I want to do that?" asked Crane.

"Well, you'd get paid, and if someone tried to burn you as a witch again, we'd probably have to stop 'em," said Robbin' Joker, shrugging. "Group loyalty and all that."

"We also have food," said Two-Face. "Even with all of Selina's cats, there's still plenty of wild game left in the forest."

"Wild game, you say?" said Friar Tetch, his eyes lighting up. "Of course while I don't condone stealing, I haven't tasted wild game in ages."

"Well, you're welcome to stop by the camp occasionally, padre," said Robbin' Joker. "The more the merrier in Robbin' Joker's merry band of merry men, that's my motto. And try saying it five times fast!" he chuckled.

Crane and Friar Tetch shared a look. "Up to you, but we're heading home to cook the venison," said Two-Face, heading back into the forest.

The word venison was too much for a largely starving population to resist, and they both followed Two-Face and Catwoman into the woods. "So we got the witch and the wench," chuckled Robbin' Joker, following them. "And the faceless guy and the friar. Yes sir, I think Robbin' Joker's band of Merry Men is coming along very nicely!"


	4. Chapter 4

"Those are just the kind of legends that are being told, my lady, and are probably far, far from the reality of the situation. You know how peasants like to embellish stories, and he is an outlaw, after all. And while I do think living out in the woods among nature must be very pleasant, he's hardly a heroic figure, not like your cousin."

"No, indeed," agreed Lady Harleen Quinzel, who was more commonly known as Maid Harley. She shook her head, causing her red and black double hennin to wobble in the breeze. She and her lady-in-waiting, Lady Pamela Isley, were riding toward Gotham, accompanied by a band of armed men. At the head of the group was Maid Harley's cousin, Sir Bruce Wayne, a strong, powerful, solemn warrior dressed all in black, who had been called back from the crusades by specific order of the king to handle the growing and troubling situation in Gotham. The outlaw gang in Arkham Forest had robbed and humiliated every force sent to stop them, and the rumor was that no warrior could beat them. Sir Bruce Wayne had been sent to prove that wasn't true.

The king had given him full authority to do whatever was necessary to suppress the events taking place in Gotham, and to bring the perpetrators to justice, deputizing him as the Sheriff of Gotham. And Sir Bruce was fully committed to doing justice to the huge responsibility granted him. There was nothing he enjoyed more than justice.

When Sir Bruce's cousin, Maid Harley, had heard that he was being sent to Gotham, she begged and pleaded with him to take her along to accompany him. She would be perfectly safe, she assured him, because she would stay in the grounds of Wayne Manor, an estate that had been gifted to Sir Bruce as advanced thanks for handling the situation. And because she would bring her trusted lady-in-waiting, Lady Pamela, who was fully committed to protecting Maid Harley at any cost, including, but not limited to, violent means.

Maid Harley claimed she merely wanted to support Sir Bruce in his endeavor, but the truth was she had listened to so many stories and legends about the Arkham outlaws that she was eager to just catch of glimpse of the source of these legends. She had been fascinated by the tales of the brave outlaw who dared to defy the king, stealing from him and foiling his men at every turn. Fascinated, but not supportive, she assured herself. She fully supported her cousin's mission to suppress these outlaws, and destroy them, if it came to that. They were not people to be admired.

But as she rode, she begged Lady Pamela to tell her any stories she knew about them, eager for more. It was the only excitement she got. Maid Harley's life was not hugely one to be envied – she was well off, but a lady in the middle ages didn't have many occupations other than sewing, and many destinies other than being married to someone she had probably never met, never mind loved.

Maid Harley was very beautiful, and her father, Lord Quinzel, had fervently hoped that she'd make a good match, one that would benefit the family. He was desperately hoping that a proposal would come from her cousin, Sir Bruce Wayne, and unbeknownst to Maid Harley, Sir Bruce had only agreed to take her along for just that reason. Once they were settled in Gotham, and he had defeated these outlaws, he intended to marry her. He had given her no indication of this, and had not even proposed to her yet, but he was sure she would accept him, and then they could establish a home in Wayne Manor, and Maid Harley could get on with her purpose in life, which was, of course, to bear him a brood of sons.

Maid Harley was ignorant of all of this, of course. She thought Sir Bruce had agreed to take her along merely so she'd stop pestering him about it, and assumed she'd be returned to her father's court in York when Sir Bruce's mission was over, to be married off to someone else when the time was right. She knew that was her duty as a woman, and as her father's property, but some small part of her detested the idea that she could be sold like cattle to whoever would buy her, that she had no free will and no control to make decisions about her own life. It didn't seem hugely fair.

But then fairness wasn't really the order of the day in a feudal society, and mostly Maid Harley counted herself lucky that she had been born into a noble family with enough wealth to eat and to live, unlike many of the peasants. She also counted herself lucky that her cousin had agreed to take her along, and she couldn't wait to see Gotham, and more importantly, Arkham Forest, with her own eyes.

They had to pass through Arkham Forest to reach Gotham, and Maid Harley's heart leapt in excitement and apprehension when she saw the leafy greenery of the woods dead ahead.

"My lord, perhaps we should go round," spoke up a soldier, as they stood on the path about to enter the forest. "The outlaws…"

"I am not afraid of outlaws," interrupted Sir Bruce, coldly. "I have been sent here to stop them, and I will, be it today or later."

"But my lord, the Maid Harley…" began another.

"Are you about to imply that I cannot protect my cousin and my lady from a bunch of thieves?" demanded Sir Bruce. "If you have so little faith in my ability, stay here like the coward you are. But we will go through Arkham Forest, and no threat of any pitiful outlaw band is going to stop me. Ride on."

The men obeyed, and the horses moved forward into Arkham Forest. As they traveled under the leafy, green canopy, Maid Harley felt her heart beating in excitement as she gazed around her. The chirping of birds and the rustling of animals in the undergrowth, even the twinkle of the sun through the leaves made her eyes strain for any glimpse of the outlaws.

"Stay close to me, my lady," said Lady Pamela, riding beside her. "And your cousin. He will protect you in case of danger."

"I have no doubt of it," replied Maid Harley, but truthfully, she was hoping to at least be able to see one of the outlaws in person, just so she could put a face to the names she had heard.

Suddenly, an arrow shot through air, embedding itself in a tree trunk just next to Sir Bruce. Attached to the arrow was a piece of cloth, which unfolded itself to reveal the words, "HA HA HA," and a smiley face.

"Nothing like starting the day with a smile, isn't that right, folks?" came a voice behind them. They all turned and looked up to see a man standing in the branches of a tree, smiling down at them. A man dressed all in purple, and holding a bow and arrow. "I know I always do. And trust me, a positive attitude is the best attitude to have when something bad happens to you, like being robbed. It makes the whole situation a bit less traumatic, or so they tell me. Never been robbed myself, but almost everyone I meet is, because I'm Robbin' Joker!"

He chuckled madly to himself. "What does a bird have to do with being robbed?" asked Lady Pamela, who was clearly unimpressed by the man.

"No, Pamela, it's a pun – robbing like stealing," explained Maid Harley.

Robbin' Joker stared at her. "It…sure is, toots," he stammered. "You're the first person I didn't have to explain that to. The first person who's…got the joke."

She smiled shyly, feeling herself blushing at his gaze. The moment was interrupted by Sir Bruce drawing his sword, and dismounting. "There is no escape, clown," he snarled. "I am here to bring you to justice, and I have both the resolution and the numbers to do so." He snapped his fingers, and his soldiers all drew bows of their own, aiming at Robbin' Joker. "Surrender now, and I may yet be merciful," he finished.

"Hmm, tempting," said Robbin' Joker, pretending to consider the offer. "Okay, now lemme give you my offer. You join me for dinner, we talk this all over, you give me all your money so I'll overlook this little misunderstanding, and you leave with a full belly, some light humiliation, and your lives. Deal?"

Sir Bruce glared at him, and then snapped, "Open fire on my order," at his men.

Robbin' Joker clicked his tongue. "So rude. Someone offers you dinner, and you try to kill them. Are there no manners left among the upper-classes? Looks like Robbin' Joker's gonna have to teach you some."

He whistled, and Two-Face and Catwoman instantly emerged from the bushes, also armed with bows. Two-Face stood directly in front of Sir Bruce, and aimed his arrow right between his eyes. "You give the order, and you won't live to see it carried out," growled Two-Face.

"But you'll be dead, so my duty will have been accomplished," retorted Sir Bruce.

"True," agreed Robbin' Joker, still perched in the tree. "But if I know a man of duty, there's one thing that's always gonna sway him."

He aimed his own arrow down at Maid Harley. "And I don't miss," he added, smiling at Sir Bruce. "You feel lucky, punk? Well, do ya?"

Maid Harley's heart beat wildly as she stared up at the arrow, and at the man aiming it at her. She could be killed in an instant, and while she was frightened, she also perversely felt a strange excitement, thrilling at the situation.

Sir Bruce let out an annoyed growl, and then barked, "Stand down!" at his men.

They obeyed, and Robbin' Joker's crew rushed to take their weapons and valuables from them. Maid Harley still gazed at Robbin' Joker, who kept his arrow trained on her, and then winked at her, lowering it slowly. "Good choice," he said. "And now about that dinner. Merry men, escort these good folks to our camp."

He winked at Maid Harley again. "And welcome to Arkham, my lady."


	5. Chapter 5

"Why do you call them merry men when you have a woman in your band?" voiced Maid Harley at last, as Robbin' Joker hopped down from the tree and personally guided her horse deeper into the woods.

"My lady, don't speak to the outlaw!" hissed Lady Pamela, who had stuck even closer to Maid Harley's side.

"She's an honorary man," replied Robbin' Joker, shrugging. "And it's not as catchy to call yourselves Robbin' Joker and his Merry Men Plus One Woman. Doesn't have the same ring to it."

"And…why do you look like a clown?" asked Maid Harley again.

"My lady!" snapped Lady Pamela, furiously.

"Pamela, I have heard so many stories, which has led to so many questions," snapped Maid Harley. "Now that I'm meeting the man about whom these stories have been told, I am not wasting my opportunity to have him answer those questions!"

"Got a little temper on you, huh?" chuckled Robbin' Joker. "I like that in a woman. I also like that you ain't afraid of me."

"Well, I…should be afraid of outlaws," agreed Maid Harley. "But I can't imagine being hurt by the man I have heard legends about. Anyway, there's just…something about you. I don't think you would have shot me."

"I would if the big guy had been difficult," said Robbin' Joker, nodding at Sir Bruce, who glared back at him in fury. "But I knew he wouldn't be. Most people are intimidated enough by the threat of violence that real violence isn't necessary. Especially when the threat of violence is toward their sweetheart."

"Oh no, Sir Bruce is my cousin," explained Maid Harley, hastily. "I'm not betrothed to anyone."

"Really?" asked Robbin' Joker, smiling. "Well, that's very interesting, toots. Very interesting indeed."

Maid Harley blushed again. "You will address the Lady Harleen Quinzel as 'my lady'," snapped Lady Pamela, glaring daggers at Robbin' Joker. "She is far, far above your station in every way, and that should be apparent in your speech."

"Who's the guard dog?" asked Robbin' Joker, nodding at Lady Pamela.

"This is Lady Pamela Isley, my lady-in-waiting," said Maid Harley, introducing her. "But it's really not necessary, Pamela. I don't expect to be addressed with respect by outlaws. And I prefer to be called Maid Harley rather than Lady Harleen Quinzel."

"Maid Harley it is," said Robbin' Joker. "Though if it's all the same to you, I prefer toots."

"That's also quite agreeable," murmured Maid Harley, smiling and blushing at him.

Lady Pamela had seen enough. She urged her horse forward, stopping it in front of Robbin' Joker, withdrawing a knife, and holding it to his face. "You are to treat the Lady Harleen Quinzel with respect," she growled. "And if you lay a hand on her, you're losing your eyes. Do I make myself clear?"

"Sure thing," said Robbin' Joker, nodding hastily. Lady Pamela put the knife away and brought her horse back next to Maid Harley, keeping a close eye on Robbin' Joker. "Shoulda tried to shoot her instead," he muttered under his breath. Maid Harley heard him and giggled, and they smiled at each other again.

"Little Johnny, hope you made enough food to go around, because I've brought some friends!" chuckled Robbin' Joker as they emerged into the camp in the clearing.

"Don't call me that, and don't invite people to dinner without consulting the cook ever again!" snapped Crane, glaring up at him. "Now I have to water down the rabbit stew."

"Forget the stew – where's the rest of that venison?" asked Robbin' Joker. "Let's cook that instead. These are very important guests, after all. We got a lady in our midst," he said, nodding at Maid Harley.

"I'm not going to cook another meal completely from scratch after I've spent all morning cooking the stew!" snapped Crane. "Do you know how difficult it is to cook things on an open fire?! I'm not going through all that effort again on a joint of meat, I don't care who the guest is…"

He trailed off as he saw Maid Harley, and his mouth fell open. "I'll…go get the venison," he gasped at last, hurrying off.

"I wouldn't insult my lady by having anything less than a feast for her," said Robbin' Joker, smiling at her. "Plus Little Johnny's stew ain't very good. But then he's a doctor, not a cook, dammit Jim."

He cackled madly as Lady Pamela helped Maid Harley dismount. "Have a seat, milady, and you too, sport," said Robbin' Joker, gesturing to the stones around the fire.

Sir Bruce didn't move until Two-Face aimed an arrow at him again. Then he grudgingly sat down, and Lady Pamela forced Maid Harley to sit next to him, with her on the other side.

A black shape suddenly curled its way between them and climbed onto Maid Harley's lap, purring. "Oh, hello there," said Maid Harley, beaming as she petted the cat, who settled down comfortably on top of her, purring loudly. Lady Pamela made to push it away, but it hissed suddenly, snapping at her.

"I loathe animals," growled Lady Pamela, keeping her hands to herself. The cat snorted, and then settled down happily in Maid Harley's lap again.

"My cat likes you," said Catwoman, nodding at her.

"It ain't the only one," said Robbin' Joker, checking his reflection in a piece of glass and making sure he didn't have anything stuck in his teeth.

Crane returned with the joint of venison, which he put on a spit over the fire. "It'll be a little while," he said, turning the spit. "So why don't we make introductions? I'm…"

"Little Johnny, and you can guess why he's called that!" chuckled Robbin' Joker, shoving Crane out of the way and sitting down opposite Maid Harley himself. "Not like me, I'm the Big J here. Well, some people have called it that. Mostly me," he laughed.

"I don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about," said Maid Harley, smiling as she petted the cat. "But it's good that you can amuse yourself."

"Yes, himself is the only person he ever amuses," muttered Crane, going back to turning the spit.

"Your men don't seem very merry," commented Lady Pamela, looking around at their serious faces.

"Yeah, they do need to cheer up," agreed Robbin' Joker. "Hey, jerks, smile, why doncha? You're meant to be merry men, and you're ruining my reputation here!"

"Your reputation as a thief and an outlaw?" demanded Sir Bruce.

"Speaking of people who need to lighten up," muttered Robbin' Joker. "What the hell's your problem, pal?"

"My problem is that I've been attacked by outlaws who have stolen from me, and are now forcing us to endure the indignity of having to share a meal with them, when my express purpose in coming to Gotham was to see you all arrested and hanged!" snapped Sir Bruce. "I'm Sir Bruce Wayne, and nobody humiliates me and lives!"

" _You're_ Sir Bruce Wayne?" repeated Two-Face, both of whose faces twisted in hatred. "The Batman?!"

"Why's he called the Batman?" asked Robbin' Joker.

"His coat of arms is a bat," snapped Two-Face. "It's the symbol of House Wayne. And Sir Bruce Wayne was the man who ordered the king's men to scale the walls into Jerusalem when the heathens dropped boiling oil on us!"

"Casualties in war are often regrettable, but necessary," replied Sir Bruce. "If we want justice to be achieved…"

"Justice?!" interrupted Two-Face furiously, standing up. "You talk of justice?! Let me tell you what justice is! Justice would be if I took this burning log and shoved it into your face so that it was as hideous and deformed as mine! It's your fault I look like this! You'd seen what the heathens had done to the other men, but you just couldn't give up, could you?! You just couldn't retreat, so you sent men to their doom for no reason, left to be horribly murdered and mutilated! And then when the city's defenses held, you and your fellow knights retreated, along with your cowardly king, leaving the rest of us to be butchered! I should kill you right where you stand for justice!"

"Hey, Harvey, calm down," said Robbin' Joker. "I know it's a personal thing, but I don't want you killing Sir Bruce."

"Why not?" demanded Two-Face. "He's just said his purpose here is to kill us!"

"I just don't," retorted Robbin' Joker. "Because it would upset certain people here, who I'm really not looking to upset."

He inclined his head over toward Maid Harley. "Also, it's rude to invite people to dinner and then kill them – show's a shocking lack of hospitality," he added. "Anyway, where would be the fun in killing him now, when he doesn't really have a chance to defend himself? We should at least give him a fighting chance – it's only sporting."

"He didn't give us that," growled Two-Face.

"Well, I ain't a big fan of justice," retorted Robbin' Joker. "So you're just going to have to be the bigger man, Harvey. Shouldn't be a problem for you – you ain't Little Johnny."

"Shut up!" snapped Crane.

"I don't think your appearance is that hideous," spoke up Lady Pamela. "You look a lot better than the clown."

Two-Face growled again, but sat down. "Thanks," he muttered at Lady Pamela.

"So you ran home from the war with your tail between your legs, and now you're gonna sort out outlaws in Gotham, huh?" asked Robbin' Joker, cutting Sir Bruce a slice of venison and plopping it in front of him.

"I was called back from the crusade to serve his majesty at home," growled Sir Bruce. "He requested me for this task specially, as he knows how much I loathe disorder and chaos."

"You seem like a fun guy," said Robbin' Joker, as he cut a slice of venison for Maid Harley. "You'd better hurry and eat that, milady, before the cat goes for it," he said. "Selina, can't you tell your pets to leave the lady alone?"

"You can't tell cats to do anything," retorted Catwoman, taking a slice of venison for herself. "Which is why I relate to them."

"I don't mind," said Maid Harley, who stroked the cat with one hand while eating with the other. "I love animals. Sir Bruce brought me back a menagerie of exotic animals home from the crusades, including something he calls hyenas. Sadly we had to leave them at my father's court when we came to Gotham, but I'm going to write to him to ask him to send the hyenas."

"So you're gonna be staying in Gotham for the foreseeable future?" asked Robbin' Joker, hopefully.

"Yes. Sir Bruce is taking us to Wayne Manor," said Maid Harley. "We are staying until his mission here is complete."

"The mission to weed out the outlaws?" chuckled Robbin' Joker. "So you'll be here forever, then. That's one mission that's doomed to failure."

"Your cockiness will be your downfall, outlaw," hissed Sir Bruce.

"Nah, I don't think so," said Robbin' Joker, shaking his head. "Not my cockiness, but maybe the first part of that word…"

"How long are you forcing us to endure this ridiculous dinner charade?" interrupted Sir Bruce.

"Well, you're free to go whenever you want. As long as you've cleaned your plate, of course," he added. "Can't be wasting food when there are people starving in Gotham."

"If you don't want it, my cats will have it," spoke up Catwoman.

Sir Bruce nodded, throwing the venison on the ground, which caused the black cat to leap off Maid Harley's lap and hurry over to it. It was soon joined by a bunch of other cats emerging from the forest.

"Harley, come on, we're leaving," snapped Sir Bruce, heading for his horse.

"Come along, my lady," said Lady Pamela, helping her up.

"Thank you for the meal, Robbin' Joker," said Maid Harley, smiling at him.

"Oh please, call me J, milady," he said, taking her hand and kissing it. "Lady like you don't have to be formal with a guy like me."

"All right then, J," she said, beaming at him. Sir Bruce helped her onto her horse, while Lady Pamela turned to Robbin' Joker and pulled out her knife again.

"You stay away from her in future, outlaw, or I will cut you," she growled. "I'll cut your cockiness right off."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" asked Robbin' Joker.

"It wouldn't be the first time I'd done it to a man," snapped Lady Pamela. "And I did enjoy it, yes," she added, with a cold smile. "So stay the hell away from my lady."

Robbin' Joker rolled his eyes as she mounted her horse. "Wenches, I tell ya," he muttered.

"I'm very pleased to have met you, Robbin' Joker," said Maid Harley, turning back to him. "It's nice to have a face to match to the name so many stories have been told about. It's a very…pleasant face."

"I aim to please, milady," he said, grinning. "I do hope you pass through Arkham Forest again soon."

"I hope so too," she replied, beaming.

"Harley, come along!" snapped Sir Bruce, riding out of the clearing. Maid Harley urged her horse forward, turning back to smile shyly at Robbin' Joker again. He waved at her, and she waved tentatively back before she was lost to sight.

"I think I got an in there," Robbin' Joker said, turning back to the company.

"Right. Like a lady like that would ever look twice at an outlaw like you," said Catwoman, rolling her eyes. "She'd have to be completely out of her mind."

"I hope so," agreed Robbin' Joker. "That's my favorite type of dame."


	6. Chapter 6

"Where you going, J?" asked Catwoman a few days later. Evening had fallen, and the members of Robbin' Joker's band had settled into the camp for the night. Two-Face was attempting to figure out how to play a lute, strumming the strings gently, while Crane was wrapping poultices from the herbs he had collected earlier. Friar Tetch was also there, reading the Bible, while Catwoman entertained her pets.

"Just going for a walk," said Robbin' Joker, lightly. "As nice as this kumbaya stuff around the campfire is, Harvey's attempts at music are giving me a headache. As is the smell of Little Johnny's medicines."

"They'll save your life one day, and then you won't complain about the smell," snapped Crane.

"I probably will," said Robbin' Joker. "Anyway, they smell better than your cats, Selina, so I'm off to get some fresh air. I'll be back before any of you can miss me."

"Considering we never will, there's really no need for you to come back," retorted Crane.

"You know, it's that kinda loyalty and devotion that's gonna carry the name Robbin' Joker and his Merry Men into legend," said Robbin' Joker, sarcastically. "Ungrateful buncha jerks," he muttered, storming off into the woods. He took the path toward Gotham, and then veered off toward the outskirts where Wayne Manor was located.

The estate had high stone walls surrounding it on every side, and a huge portcullis that denied entry to any unauthorized visitor, manned by armed guards. Robbin' Joker went around to the back and studied the wall, then slung his bow over his shoulder and grabbed ahold of the vines of ivy that clung to the stones. Between that and the worn brickwork, he managed to scale the wall, and dropped down into the grounds, heading toward the house.

He could see light coming from the room downstairs, where a roaring fire was lit in the grate. He saw the figure of Sir Bruce being brought a drink by an older man, who appeared to be a servant. Robbin' Joker's eyes strayed upward to another lit room with a balcony, and he could just make out the figure of Maid Harley combing her blonde hair in this.

Fortunately, the walls of the manor were also old and decayed and covered with ivy, so Robbin' Joker managed to shimmy up to the balcony with minimal difficulty. He looked around the room carefully to make sure Lady Pamela wasn't there, and then knocked lightly on the window.

Maid Harley turned, surprised, but she beamed when she saw who her visitor was. She raced to the balcony door and threw it open. "How did you get up here?" she whispered.

"Hey, I climb trees daily – you think I can't scale a few walls?" he asked, shrugging.

"Whatever are you doing here?" she asked. "It's incredibly dangerous for you to be here."

"I came to see you," he said. "It's been a few days, and I just can't seem to get you outta my mind. I can't stop thinking about you, toots, and I knew I had to see you again, whatever the cost. It was worth the risk."

Maid Harley smiled. "Well, this is very rash and foolish of you," she whispered. "But I'm so glad you did."

She came out onto the balcony, pulled the curtains, and then shut the door. "We can't let Lady Pamela see you, or God forbid, my cousin," she said.

"To be honest, I think I'm more concerned about Lady Pamela," replied Robbin' Joker. "You know she's nuts, right?"

"She's very concerned about protecting me," replied Maid Harley. "From all the evils of this world."

"So she thinks I'm an evil, does she?" asked Robbin' Joker.

"Yes," replied Maid Harley. "She thinks that about most men, especially outlaws. But I don't."

Robbin' Joker smiled. "Well, you're the only one whose opinion I'm concerned about."

"And why is that?" she asked, puzzled. "Most people aren't at all concerned about my opinions. They mostly just tell me to be seen and not heard, and don't speak up, and stick to my embroidery. I know my cousin always does, and my father. Why should you be any more interested in my opinions than they are?"

"Well…I have a different interest in you than your father or your cousin," said Robbin' Joker, slowly. "I mean, they're your family, so they probably know a lot about you and your opinions already. But I don't know you that well yet, and I really, really wanna. I know you're beautiful, for instance, but there are other things a guy wants to know about a woman."

"Are there?" asked Maid Harley. "That's not what my father says. Or my cousin."

"So they're both idiots," retorted Robbin' Joker. "When you're interested in someone, you wanna know what their interests are, and if they're compatible with yours. You don't wanna have someone with you for the rest of your life if they don't understand you. But the fact that you got the joke about my name makes me think that maybe you do understand me. Or my sense of humor, anyway, which is basically how you understand me."

"Well, I…do sympathize with your position," said Maid Harley, slowly. "I think it must be terribly exciting to be an outlaw, even though I know what you do is technically against the law, and wrong. But I can see why you do it. I've seen how awful it is to be a peasant sometimes, and no one can blame you for trying to earn a living, even if that sometimes means stealing from others who are better off. I don't think it's fair that my family has all this money while there are people out there starving in the streets. I do sometimes think life would be better if the world was a little fairer, and wealth were spread a little more equally."

"You keep that pipe dream, kiddo!" chuckled Robbin' Joker. "The world won't ever be like that. The world's always gonna be a cruel, unfair, uncaring place, because that's what most people are like. But I don't blame individuals for looking out for themselves however they can, and sometimes that includes a little stealing."

"It makes sense to me," said Maid Harley, nodding.

"Does it?" he asked, smiling at her. "There, you see. I knew you were special."

She blushed. "Nobody…has ever called me special before," she whispered.

"Idiots, like I said," retorted Robbin' Joker. "You are a one-of-a-kind dame, gorgeous, smart, sweet. Don't let anyone tell you you don't matter, and don't let anyone make you feel worthless. Because the truth is, you're kinda perfect."

Maid Harley blushed again. "Are you always so charming, outlaw?" she asked.

"Only to people I like," he replied. "Otherwise I kill 'em."

"You didn't kill my cousin or Lady Pamela," she said. "And you clearly don't like them."

"Well, it woulda hurt you if I had," he said, shrugging. "Couldn't do that to you, toots. Couldn't bear to see you upset."

"Pamela has warned me that men can sometimes be very charming without being sincere, in order to get what they want from a lady," said Maid Harley. "I have no idea what it is they want as nobody will tell me – Pamela says I'll find out after I'm married. It's something to do with children, I suspect, as I was taught that heirs are what men primarily want to be married for. But anyway, I'm not sure I should trust the flattering words of an outlaw, who are not traditionally honorable men."

"You think I'm lying to you?" he asked. "You think I don't mean what I say? You think I woulda risked coming here and getting captured and killed for no reason?"

"No," she replied. "I do…believe you. And trust you, even though Pamela would say I'm foolish to trust a man, and an outlaw at that. But there's just something about you, as I said before…something completely irresistible."

"The thrill of the criminal," chuckled Robbin' Joker. "No woman can resist a bad boy."

"Somehow the idea that it's so wrong to trust you makes it seem so right," she murmured. "There must be something wrong with me. Perhaps I'm insane."

"I really hope you are, toots," he murmured, taking her hands. "Because I'm just crazy for you."

He held her hand, feeling the throbbing of her pulse, and then murmured, "My lady, may I kiss you?"

She blushed scarlet. "I…I'm not sure…how that works," she stammered. "How to do that, I…"

"I'm sure you'll get the hang of it if you let me demonstrate," he said.

She continued to blush, but nodded. "All right," she whispered. His lips came toward hers, and she found her own almost unconsciously moving toward his, her heart beating wildly in excitement and anticipation, and her whole body quivering.

The moment was suddenly broken by Lady Pamela shouting, "My lady? Where are you? Your bath is ready!" from inside.

"I'll be there in a second, Pamela!" called Maid Harley. "Go, quickly," she said, turning back to Robbin' Joker. "You can't let her see you - I couldn't bear it if you were caught."

"You'll let me see you again?" he asked.

She stared at him incredulously. "You would risk your life coming here again?"

"For you, toots? Anything," he said, nodding.

She beamed. "Of course you can see me again," she whispered. "But please do be careful, J. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you."

"My lady? Come inside! You mustn't get too much fresh air – it can make you ill!" called Lady Pamela,

"All right, Pamela, I'm coming!" called back Maid Harley. "Go now," she whispered, turning back to Robbin' Joker.

He nodded and began scaling down the ivy clinging to the balcony. Maid Harley turned to go inside, but he suddenly caught her hand. She turned back, and his lips suddenly met hers in a tender kiss.

Maid Harley had never felt anything like it, as a million, previously unknown feelings began to spark through her body. She gasped in delight, as her lips tentatively began to respond to the gentle demands of his own.

"Goodnight, my lady," he whispered, drawing away at last and smiling at her.

"Goodnight, outlaw," she murmured, still blushing and beaming at him. He flashed her a grin and then disappeared down the wall.

"My lady, there you are!" exclaimed Lady Pamela, drawing aside the curtain and storming out onto the balcony. "Come inside at once before you catch your death of cold. Goodness, you're all flushed!" she exclaimed, feeling her forehead. "Are you feeling ill?"

"No, I'm feeling…wonderful," stammered Maid Harley. "Just wonderful. Isn't the world such a wonderful place, Pamela?" she sighed, heading inside dreamily.

"No, it isn't," retorted Lady Pamela. "It's a hellhole overpopulated by humans. If I had my way, the plants would take over and weed out the humans, starting with men…"

She trailed off as she caught sight of a familiar figure disappearing over the wall of Wayne Manor. A familiar figure in purple. Her eyes narrowed as she fingered her knife. "Starting with one man in particular," she murmured.


	7. Chapter 7

"My lord, I have some most distressing news," said Lady Pamela, as she was admitted to Sir Bruce's study the next morning. "It's about my Lady Harley."

Sir Bruce looked up from the map of Arkham Forest. "She's not ill, I trust?" he asked.

"No, my lord," replied Lady Pamela. "At least, not physically. But I am afraid her wits might be diseased. We all know madness is contagious, and Lady Harley did spend some time among lunatics not too long ago."

"Why do you think she is mad?" asked Sir Bruce.

"Well, she must be," said Lady Pamela. "That is the only explanation I can think of as to why she would let the outlaw seduce her."

Sir Bruce stood up. "What are you talking about?" he growled. "What outlaw?"

"The clown, my lord," replied Lady Pamela.

"Isn't your job meant to be keeping an eye on my cousin so she's not seduced by anyone?" demanded Sir Bruce. "Isn't that solely your responsibility, to protect her from the unwanted advances of men?"

"It is also to serve my lady, and I was distracted by preparing her bath," retorted Lady Pamela. "The outlaw snuck in like a serpent when I was away from her. I saw him skulking back across the grounds, and found Lady Harley flushed in her room. I do not think I was gone long enough for anything…substantial to have occurred, but the fact remains that she was not at all distressed by his presence and his actions. Quite the opposite. And this morning she is acting as if she's under some spell, humming and giggling to herself. I am afraid he has infected her with some kind of madness, my lord."

Sir Bruce nodded slowly, processing what she had said. "We must restore her senses immediately, then," he said. "And I believe I know how to accomplish that. Lady Pamela, fetch my cousin, and you, Alfred," he said, turning to the servant. "Fetch the village friar."

"Right away, Sir Bruce," said Alfred, bowing.

"You wanted to see me, cousin?" asked Maid Harley, smiling as she entered Sir Bruce's study with Lady Pamela.

"Yes. Have a seat, Harley," he said, gesturing to a chair. "I'm just waiting for Alfred's return before we begin."

"Begin what?" asked Maid Harley, puzzled.

"Here is the friar, sir," said Alfred, returning with Friar Tetch following behind him.

"Friar Tetch, at your service, Sir Bruce," said Friar Tetch, bowing. "How may I be of assistance to you?"

"I require you to perform a marriage ceremony," replied Sir Bruce. "At once."

"Of course, Sir Bruce," said Friar Tetch, bowing again. "A marriage ceremony for whom?"

"For me and my cousin," he said, gesturing at Maid Harley.

"I…beg your pardon?" gasped Maid Harley, shocked.

"Of course, how remiss of me to skip formalities," said Sir Bruce. "I am afraid the technicalities have not all been properly seen to, Friar. I won't take a moment," he said, turning to Maid Harley and kneeling down. "My lady, I desire your hand in marriage. I believe you are a suitable woman to provide me with the heir I desire, and I believe the match would be a good one for your family and mine. Your consent is all that is required, and then we can waste no time in making the marriage official."

"I…uh…I'm sorry, I'm just a little…surprised," stammered Maid Harley. "I wasn't expecting a proposal at all…um…have you consulted my father about this? I cannot agree without his consent, after all."

"Your father has privately and repeatedly expressed his desire for this marriage to me," replied Sir Bruce. "Indeed, my express purpose in bringing you here was to wed you."

"You…wouldn't have told me that before we left home?" stammered Maid Harley. "If I had known that was the terms of my accompanying you, perhaps I…would have reconsidered."

Sir Bruce frowned. "Are you saying you don't want to marry me?"

"I…" stammered Maid Harley, wondering how she could respond in the negative tactfully. "I don't…um…"

"Because you must understand that it's really not up to you," interrupted Sir Bruce. "And that your desires do not matter one bit. Your consent is a mere formality, and one I can skip over if necessary. Your father wishes this, and I wish it, and you will respect our wishes as his property, and soon to be mine. You will be obedient to our desires, as a good daughter and a wife-to-be."

"It is a good match, my lady," spoke up Lady Pamela. "As Sir Bruce's wife, you will be accorded the respect and dignity of a very high station indeed, the wife of a knight. And you can live out your days here in Wayne Manor, in comfort and splendor, with a wealthy and distinguished husband by your side."

"And our children, naturally," agreed Sir Bruce. "I am expecting many children, and I'm sure you are equal to the task of bearing them. We'll get started immediately after the ceremony is through, but for now, Friar Tetch, please get on with performing it," he said, taking Maid Harley's arm. "Can it be done here, or must we accompany you to church?"

"Well, I…the church is the usual place for a wedding," agreed Friar Tetch, slowly. "But…forgive me, Sir Bruce, I cannot in good conscience perform the marriage ceremony without the lady's consent," he said, nodding at Maid Harley. "I need to hear her accept your proposal."

"Very well – accept it, Harley," said Sir Bruce.

Maid Harley stared from him to Friar Tetch and back. "I'm…I'm sorry," she stammered. "I…I…I cannot accept you as my husband, Sir Bruce."

"Why not?" asked Sir Bruce, surprised and annoyed.

"Because I…I…I just can't," she stammered. "I do not…love you."

Sir Bruce sighed heavily. "Oh dear. You're really going to be disobedient because of some wild fantasy about love?"

Maid Harley shut her eyes. Most of her mind was urging her to accept Sir Bruce – that was the sensible thing to do, after all. But then somewhere, some small part of her held Robbin' Joker's image and his words to her, his words about her mattering, and his kiss, which had suddenly turned the world into a wonderful place full of hope and joy.

She opened her eyes and stared back at Sir Bruce. "That's right," she said, firmly.

His hand tightened on Maid Harley's arm. "I will not tolerate disobedience from my wife," he muttered.

"I'm not your wife," retorted Maid Harley, wrenching her arm away. "And I will never consent to be."

"I consent, and your father consents, and that's all the consent you need!" snapped Sir Bruce, grabbing her arm again. "Friar Tetch, perform the marriage," he said.

"I…cannot, Sir Bruce," said Friar Tetch, slowly. "I cannot force this woman to marry you without her consent. That is against my duty to man and God."

Sir Bruce glared from him to Maid Harley. "This is about that outlaw, isn't it?" he growled. "The clown. He's done something to you, hasn't he? He's poisoned your mind against me, if not your body. Lady Pamela said she saw him sneaking away from your room last night – what has he done to you?" he demanded, grabbing her shoulders.

"Nothing!" exclaimed Maid Harley.

"Don't lie to me," hissed Sir Bruce. "Did he touch you?"

Maid Harley glared back at him. "He spoke to me," she said. "He spoke to me like an equal and with respect, not with the contemptuous and patronizing tone that you speak to me with. He told me I mattered, and that my opinions mattered, and that I should never let anyone make me feel as though I didn't ever again. And I will obey him in that."

She wrenched herself away from Sir Bruce. "Good day," she snapped, storming back to her room.

Sir Bruce glared after her. "Leave me," he snapped, nodding at Friar Tetch and Alfred. "Lady Pamela, you stay," he said. "I need to speak with you."

The two men bowed and left, shutting the door behind them. "Of course I will be using all the influence I have to plead your case to my lady, Sir Bruce…" began Lady Pamela.

"It won't do any good," interrupted Sir Bruce. "The clown's got her under some sort of spell. The only way to break that spell is to destroy him, and then everything can go back to normal. Harley will have lost this spark of defiance once she sees him dead. She will see what happens to people who believe they can flaunt the law, and their place in society."

"So how will you catch the outlaw?" asked Lady Pamela. "Combing the forest could take weeks, and they'd hear us coming…"

"No, we must draw him out to us," interrupted Sir Bruce. "We must draw him out, and then trap him, and then execute him. In public, for everyone to see what happens to people who are defiant, and who get above themselves."

Lady Pamela thought. "A tournament," she said at last. "The clown cannot resist showing off. An archery tournament whose prize will be a kiss from the Lady Harley. He would be unable to resist that."

Sir Bruce nodded slowly. "Yes. His cockiness will be his downfall after all."

He waved his hand. "Go tell Alfred to begin work on the preparations. I want the tournament held soon, and I want the outlaw dead. My wedding will wait a week, and no more."

"As you wish, my lord," said Lady Pamela, bowing. She left the room to go find Alfred, not noticing the hidden figure of Friar Tetch, who had been listening at the keyhole, hurrying off in the direction of Arkham Forest.


	8. Chapter 8

"You know what I've been thinking, guys?" announced Robbin' Joker to the camp. "I've been thinking we should maybe find another member of our merry band."

"Who would you suggest?" asked Two-Face.

"Well…I was thinking it's kinda a shame that that Maid Harley is locked up in Wayne Manor like a prisoner or something," said Joker, slowly. "I was kinda thinking…maybe it might be nice to rescue her, and let her stay here with us."

Catwoman snorted. "Yes, I know exactly why you've been thinking that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" demanded Robbin' Joker.

"There's only one reason why a man wants to rescue an attractive woman," retorted Catwoman. "And that's because he's hoping she'll reward him in some way. Usually a physical way."

"That's a pretty sexist thing to say," retorted Robbin' Joker. "Anyway, I didn't rescue you for a physical reward. I tried to touch your pussy once and it snapped at me. By which I mean your cat, of course…"

"You didn't rescue me at all!" snapped Catwoman. "I had the situation completely under control!"

"Sure," said Robbin' Joker, rolling his eyes. "I'm sure your cats woulda beat back those guards all on their own, like some kinda army of super animals. That sounds plausible."

" _I_ would have beat back the guards all on my own, with the help of my cats," hissed Catwoman. "I don't need the help of any man!"

"So what are you doing in an all-male camp, then?" demanded Robbin' Joker.

"I can leave anytime I want," retorted Catwoman. "You need me much more than I need you. If I left, you're just stuck with a man with half a face and a nursemaid as your merry men!"

"I think nursemaid might actually be more insulting than witch," said Crane. "But I suppose people don't burn you for being that."

"We can do fine without you, Catwoman," snorted Two-Face. "And at least we wouldn't have a bunch of diseased strays hanging around."

"My cats are not diseased strays!" hissed Catwoman, raising her whip. "Take it back now!"

"Woah, woah, woah, guys, this wasn't meant to start a fight!" said Robbin' Joker, rushing in between them. "I was just saying it might be nice to have another gal join us."

"And what possible skill do you think that spoiled, high-born lady will bring to the group?" demanded Catwoman. "She's clearly never fought a day in her life, never stolen, never done anything bad, or indeed useful, at all. The only possible reason you could want her around is to deflower her."

"Do you have to talk about relationships in terms of people deflowering people?" demanded Robbin' Joker. "Why can't we just see it as an act of mutual consent, should the act happen at all, which I'm not counting on. I just wanna get her outta there. She's surrounded by that psycho, overprotective lady-in-waiting, and her bully of a cousin, and she doesn't deserve to be chained up like that. She deserves to be free. I just wanna help her."

"Why?" demanded Catwoman. "When did you become some unselfish hero all of a sudden?"

"I ain't an unselfish hero," snapped Robbin' Joker. "You're right, I ain't doing this for unselfish reasons. I'm doing it for me, because I wanna have her around. Being around her makes me happy. I think…I love her."

Everyone stared at him. "So you expect us to risk our lives because you love someone?" demanded Two-Face. "You expect us to sacrifice ourselves for your love?"

"No, nobody's sacrificing anything!" snapped Robbin' Joker. "I just thought if we all put our heads together, we could come up with some kinda low-risk plan to rescue her."

"To rescue her from the Sheriff of Gotham?" repeated Crane. "The man whose sole purpose here is to kill us all?"

"To break into Wayne Manor, which is heavily guarded and basically a fortress?" asked Two-Face.

"It's not – you can climb over the walls no problem," said Robbin' Joker, waving his hand.

"Well, if you can do that, why don't you rescue her?" demanded Catwoman. "Save her yourself."

"Just because I can climb the walls doesn't mean she can," retorted Robbin' Joker. "We have to think of a different plan to get her outta there."

"Good luck with that," retorted Two-Face. "I think I speak for all of us when I say your lady is your problem. Don't drag us into this."

"Yeah, gee, it sure would be awful if my loyal band of merry men actually supported me in my endeavor to rescue a damsel in distress," muttered Robbin' Joker. "Ungrateful buncha jerks," he repeated.

At that moment, they heard someone heading toward them through the undergrowth, and bows were instantly drawn. And then lowered when Friar Tetch emerged from the bushes, panting for breath.

"What's the rush, padre?" asked Robbin' Joker.

"Jervis, have a seat and some wine," said Crane.

Friar Tetch shook his head. "No time," he gasped. "Urgent news. I've just come from Wayne Manor…"

"Hey, what a coincidence – we were just talking about Wayne Manor," said Robbin' Joker. "While you were there, did you see any way to break somebody outta it? Any secret passages or Batcaves or anything like that?"

"Um…no," said Friar Tetch, slowly. "I was called there to officiate a marriage between Sir Bruce and Maid Harley."

Robbin' Joker stood up. "What?" he demanded.

"Don't worry, I didn't," said Friar Tetch, reassuringly. "The lady would not consent to the marriage, and so I refused to officiate it."

Robbin' Joker let out a sigh of relief. "Good. That's good. She's got a good head on her shoulders. And anyway, I'm not sure you should be officiating incest, padre. Marriage between cousins, that's a little weird, wouldn't you say?"

"Actually, it's quite common in contemporary culture," spoke up Crane. "Especially among the nobility."

Robbin' Joker made a face. "Disgusting, medieval freaks," he muttered. "And people call me crazy."

"There's more," continued Friar Tetch, ignoring him. "Sir Bruce believes the reason for the lady's reluctance to the marriage is you. Lady Pamela claims she saw you hurrying away from the lady's room last night, and they believe you have her under some sort of spell. A spell that will only end with your demise."

"Who's the witch now?" asked Crane, smugly.

"Shut up!" snapped Robbin' Joker.

"I stand corrected, J – I thought you wanted to bring Maid Harley here so you can deflower her, but I see now that you already did that last night," said Catwoman.

"No, nothing like that happened!" snapped Robbin' Joker. "I just saw her, and talked to her, and…kissed her. But that's as far as it went."

"Not far enough for you, obviously," retorted Catwoman, dryly.

"Sir Bruce is planning to hold a tournament to draw you out so that he can trap and kill you," continued Friar Tetch. "An archery tournament, whose prize will be a kiss from Maid Harley, which is bait he knows you won't refuse. Under no circumstances must you indulge him and attend this tournament. It's a trap."

"Well, of course it's a trap," said Robbin' Joker. "I didn't need you to tell me that – it woulda been obvious the moment I heard about it. It's clearly designed specifically to appeal to me, both the challenge and the reward. How stupid would I have to be not to expect that it's a trap?"

He glanced at himself in the glass again. "Now the question is, should I get a new outfit for the occasion or not?"

They all gaped at him. "Didn't you hear me say under no circumstances should you attend this tournament?" demanded Friar Tetch.

"Yeah, I'm not deaf," snapped Robbin' Joker. "And I appreciate the advice, padre, really. But if the reward is a kiss from Maid Harley, that means Maid Harley is gonna be there. This might be my one chance to rescue her when she's not locked up in Wayne Manor, and you can be damn sure I'm taking advantage of it, trap or no trap."

"Maid Harley might be there, but so will literally all of Sir Bruce's soldiers!" snapped Crane. "It's a death sentence! There's no way you'll be able to make it out of there alive!"

"Oh, ye of little faith," sighed Robbin' Joker. "See, I'm talking all medieval now just to blend in for the tournament. Don't worry – I'll be in disguise. I'm just gonna get in there, get Maid Harley, and get out before they even notice my presence, or that she's missing. It'll be a piece of cake."

"And how exactly are you going to disguise your incredibly distinctive visage?" demanded Friar Tetch.

"Easy," retorted Robbin' Joker. "I'm gonna use a trick I learned from an old friend." He turned to them all and grinned. "I'm gonna wear a mask."


	9. Chapter 9

"You realize this is suicide. You're suicidal," repeated Crane, for about the hundredth time on the day of the tournament.

"Maybe," agreed Robbin' Joker, adjusting his hood. "Or maybe this is just crazy enough to work."

"If you get caught in there, you're on your own," snapped Catwoman. "Nobody is heading in there to rescue you."

"Yeah, you don't have to remind me that I'm on my own," retorted Robbin' Joker. "I know you buncha losers don't have the guts to do anything remotely brave or noble."

"We're outlaws and thieves," snapped Two-Face. "Brave and noble isn't really in the job description, and not what any of us signed up for."

"Anyway, you're only being brave and noble for your own selfish reasons, which kinda goes against the whole being brave and noble thing," snapped Catwoman.

"There's no reason why a guy can't be selfish, and also brave and noble," retorted Robbin' Joker. "Just because you have bad motivations for things doesn't mean good can't come outta it somehow. As outlaws and thieves, you guys should know that. Think of all the good that's come outta us being selfish."

He picked up his bow. "Anyway, if I don't come back, fight out a new leader amongst yourselves. Just keep the name Robbin' Joker and his Merry Men, because that's copyrighted."

He started to leave, and then turned back. "Oh, and if I do get killed, do me a favor and get the witch to try and bring me back from the dead," he said, nodding at Crane. "The idea of zombie Joker has always kinda appealed to me – I'd be the first zombie with a sense of humor."

"I'm not a witch, for the last time!" shouted Crane. "And I can't bring people back from the dead!"

"Then what the hell good are you, and why do we even keep you around?" demanded Robbin' Joker. "Ok, if I don't come back, here's my final order – go find a real witch to bring me back from the dead. See you around, losers," he said, heading off through the forest.

The town of Gotham had been completely transformed for the tournament. Banners and flags flew from every home, all bearing Sir Bruce's bat coat of arms, and the village square had been cleared, to make room for the massive crowd that milled about the stalls, and waited impatiently for the tournament to start. In the center of the town, a space for the targets and the competitors had been cleared, in front of a raised canopy under which sat Sir Bruce, Maid Harley, and Lady Pamela, waiting for the entertainment to begin.

"Are you looking forward to today's entertainment, Harley?" asked Sir Bruce, as he motioned for Alfred to bring him some wine.

"Oh…yes, my lord," stammered Maid Harley. "I hope we'll see many skilled archers compete in the tournament."

"Any archer you're hoping to see in particular?" he asked, lightly. "A certain outlaw, perhaps?"

Maid Harley couldn't conceal her blush. "No, my lord," she murmured, looking down at her hands. "Anyway, I am sure no outlaw would risk his life just to come here and impress me."

"You are unfamiliar with the overconfidence of men, my lady," retorted Lady Pamela. "Particularly men who believe they are above the law. They can't resist showing off."

"Well…it would be very flattering," said Maid Harley. "But I do hope he would never do something so dangerous and reckless. I couldn't bear if anything happened to him on my account."

"You feel that way now, but I'm sure your feelings will change in time," said Sir Bruce, firmly.

Lady Pamela sighed. "Speaking of the overconfidence of men," she muttered.

Sir Bruce stood up, and held up his hand to the crowd for silence. "Welcome to the first of what I hope will be many tournaments," he said. "As you all know, his majesty has deputized me, Sir Bruce Wayne, as Sheriff of Gotham, and under my control, lawlessness in this town will be at an end. I will be ushering in a new age of peace and justice starting today, which, I assure you, is the day the outlaws of Arkham Forest will pay for their crimes. But first, let the tournament commence. Will all archers please take their places?"

Maid Harley felt herself straining forward eagerly to see if she could somehow spot Robbin' Joker in the competitors. She was half hopeful of seeing him again, and half hopeful that he wouldn't risk his safety again just to see her.

She suddenly felt someone tap her on the shoulder, and turned to see a man wearing a red hood. He raised his face up, putting a finger to his lips and smiling at her, a very familiar smile.

Maid Harley gasped in astonishment, and looked around to see that both Sir Bruce and Lady Pamela were watching the competition intently, ignoring their immediate environment. Maid Harley slowly stood up and followed the man in the red hood out the back of the canopy.

"J, it's too dangerous for you here, you have to go!" she whispered, looking around to make sure they were alone as he removed his hood.

"I'm not leaving without you," he replied. "Friar Tetch told me Sir Bruce is trying to force you into marrying him. I won't let that happen. You have to come with me back to Arkham."

"Oh…if only I could!" she whispered. "But I can't, J."

"What's stopping you?" he asked.

"Well, I…I'm a lady," she said. "I can't just go running off to live in the woods with an outlaw. That would be…"

She trailed off. "What?" prompted Robbin' Joker.

"That would be…madness," she whispered, gazing at him. "And so wonderful."

"Give into the madness, then," he said, taking her hands. "Give into the freedom that madness gives you. Come with me."

"You don't know how much I want to," she whispered. "But I can't give up everything…for love."

"Why not?" he asked. "What else should you give up everything for? For a good, sensible marriage to your cousin? Toots, if you do that, you'll never be happy. You'll always have regrets. You'll regret giving up your freedom for something you don't really want, something society tells you is sensible, but something that feels completely wrong. And it always will feel wrong, no matter what you try to tell yourself. If you don't let your feelings guide you, you'll be unhappy the rest of your life. And hell, I know we're stuck in a time period where our lives are generally pretty short and unhappy, but you could change that. You can be happy, if you just follow your heart."

"My heart…wants to go with you," she whispered.

"Then listen to it," he said. "And we can be together, if you just have the courage to take that step. To defy convention, to risk being called crazy…to break outta the pattern and the role that other people want you to play, and just be yourself, your true self, Harley," he whispered, gently laying a hand on her cheek. "And I know deep down, your true self is crazy. Because I couldn't love anyone who wasn't."

She gazed up at him. "You love me?" she murmured.

"Nah, I'm risking my life for a fling," he said, grinning. "Of course I love you, kid."

She beamed. "Well…that's all I need to hear," she whispered. "Of course I'll go with you, J," she murmured, leaning forward and kissing him tenderly.

"A kiss from Maid Harley was the prize for winning the tournament," said an unpleasant voice at that moment. "And you haven't won the tournament, outlaw."

They turned to see Lady Pamela standing behind them, glaring at them. "Get your filthy hands off of her," she growled.

"Pamela, please, I love him," said Maid Harley, clinging onto Robbin' Joker protectively.

"No, you do not!" snapped Lady Pamela. "You don't even know what that is! This serpent has spoken some flattering words to you, has whispered poison in your ear, and you're prepared to swallow it all! But I know what he wants, my lady. He wants what every man wants, to ruin you, to despoil you, and then when he's had his fun, he'll discard you like every other man. You have the prospect of a decent, honest match with your cousin, and I won't see you throw your life away on this unworthy scoundrel! I'll see him dead first!"

"Pamela, please…" repeated Maid Harley, but she was too late.

"Sir Bruce!" shouted Lady Pamela. "The outlaw is here!"

"We gotta go, kid," said Robbin' Joker, grabbing Maid Harley's arm. "Now!"

They raced out from behind the canopy and through the crowd, hearing Sir Bruce calling the guards after them. Robbin' Joker skidded to a halt suddenly as a row of soldiers appeared in front of them, holding pikes.

"Ok, this way…" he began, pulling Maid Harley in another direction, but it too was blocked by a line of guards. Sir Bruce's men surrounded them on all sides, and marched them back to stand in front of Sir Bruce. He gestured to the guards, and two of them grabbed Maid Harley and ripped her away from Robbin' Joker with much struggling. The remainder of them pointed their spears at Robbin' Joker, covering him on all sides.

"People of Gotham," Sir Bruce said, addressing the crowd. "This is the outlaw Robin Joker…"

"Robbin' Joker," corrected Robbin' Joker. "Because it's a pun on the word robbing, you see…"

"Robin Joker," repeated Sir Bruce, firmly. "And now let me show you all what happens to outlaws in my town. Execute him at once," he said, nodding at the guards.

"No!" shrieked Maid Harley, fighting to get back to him. "No, you can't, Bruce! I won't let you!"

"You will be silent!" snapped Sir Bruce. "As all women should be, until they are spoken to! After the outlaw is dead, our marriage will occur as planned, and I will not hear another word from you about it! Execute the prisoner," he repeated, nodding at the guards.

The men raised their spears, and Robbin' Joker sighed. He looked over at Maid Harley, who had tears trailing down her cheeks, and grinned. "Worth it," he said, blowing her a kiss. "Sure hope the guys managed to find that witch," he murmured, shutting his eyes and preparing for death.

And then an arrow hissed through the air, piercing the heart of the man about to stab Robbin' Joker. The guard fell to the ground with a gurgle as all eyes looked to see where the arrow had come from.

"Run, J!" shouted Catwoman, from her perch on top of the canopy as she notched another arrow, taking out another guard.

Robbin' Joker needed no second bidding. He grabbed one of the fallen spears and then raced toward Maid Harley, knocking away the guards that held her back and tossing the spear at her as he unholstered his bow. "Here you go, kid – try harnessing a little of that madness!" he exclaimed.

"Get them!" shouted Sir Bruce, as Catwoman launched more arrows at the guards. She leapt from the top of the canopy down toward the stalls, landing on her feet, naturally, and then kicking over a barrel of fish on one of the stalls. An army of cats instantly appeared from the forest, racing toward the fish and clawing and biting anyone in the way of their food.

"Nice job with that pussy, Selina!" called Robbin' Joker.

"You're not funny, you know!" she shouted back, ripping out her whip and beating back the guards who rushed her.

"I'm pretty funny," retorted Robbin' Joker, firing his arrows at the men attacking her while covering Maid Harley. A guard rushed them, and he turned to shoot him, when Maid Harley suddenly raised the spear, making it collide with the guard's face with a mighty crack, and knocking him to the ground.

"Kid, you're a natural!" said Robbin' Joker, beaming.

Maid Harley beamed back. Robbin' Joker's attention was suddenly drawn by Lady Pamela rushing toward him with her drawn knife. He aimed at her, but she was suddenly tackled to the ground by Two-Face.

"I got her, J – get the lady outta here before she gets hurt!" shouted Two-Face, holding down a struggling Lady Pamela and nodding at Maid Harley.

Robbin' Joker nodded, grabbing Maid Harley's arm and racing through the crowd.

"Get them! Get them! Get them!" shouted Sir Bruce, who was now racing through the crowd himself, with his soldiers behind him, trying to catch the fugitives. Suddenly, there was a loud explosion, and the crowd began screaming and panicking as the flame from the bomb spread through the thatched roofs of the market and the village.

"Try to burn me, will you?!" shouted Crane, who had clearly devised some rudimentary explosives. "Let's see how you like it!"

Sir Bruce glanced around at the panic and chaos in horror, but still kept his wits about him. "Form a line in front of the woods!" he ordered. "I don't want any of them getting back to the forest! If we cut off their retreat, we'll have them trapped!"

The soldiers obeyed, forming a barrier in front of Arkham Forest, lining up one behind the other so it was row upon row of soldiers blocking the way.

"How are we going to get through?" asked Maid Harley, concerned.

Robbin' Joker looked around. "Come on," he said, turning around and heading back toward the canopy. He untied one of the bat banners, grabbing the rope and then climbing up onto the roof. He helped Maid Harley up, and then tied one end of the rope to roof, and the other to an arrow, which he aimed at one of the trees in Arkham Forest, and fired.

It stuck, forming a rudimentary zip-line. "Hang on to me," he said, swinging his bow over the line.

Maid Harley obeyed, clutching him tightly. "Uh…are you sure this is going to work?" she asked, tentatively.

"No," retorted Robbin' Joker. "But hang on to me anyway."

She smiled. "Always, my outlaw," she murmured, kissing his cheek.

He pushed off, and they zipped across the square and over the heads of the guards, landing in the tree branches high above them and disappearing into the woods.

"No!" roared Sir Bruce, glaring after them in fury. But he didn't have time to be angry before the army of cats rushed toward him and the guards – Catwoman had thrown some of the food over the heads of the guards into the forest, and the cats began clawing and biting everyone in their way again until they fled.

"Boys, let's go!" shouted Catwoman, racing off into the forest.

Crane followed close behind her, leaving only Two-Face, who was still restraining a struggling Lady Pamela. "I am not letting that outlaw get away with my lady!" she screamed. "Where she goes, I go!"

Two-Face shrugged. "Fair enough," he said. He then hoisted her over his shoulder and ran into the woods, Lady Pamela's screams of fury echoing after her as they disappeared into the forest.


	10. Chapter 10

"So…you're actually not as big a band of losers as I thought," said Robbin' Joker, addressing his merry men when he was safely back at camp.

"The words 'thank you' wouldn't go amiss," retorted Catwoman. "We didn't have to rescue you, you know."

"Then why did you?" asked Robbin' Joker.

Catwoman shrugged. "We got bored waiting for you to get back, and we figured heading into danger was more fun than just hanging around here."

"Aw, you guys have learned from me!" chuckled Robbin' Joker. "Fun is the only reason you should do anything!"

"We also couldn't agree on who would replace you if you died," spoke up Crane. "The arguments went on and on and on, until we actually thought it would be simpler if you just didn't die. Rescuing you was ultimately less trouble than choosing a new leader."

"Well then, I'm also thankful for you buncha ridiculous egotists and your inability to cooperate!" chuckled Robbin' Joker.

"As am I," agreed Maid Harley, embracing Robbin' Joker. "I can never thank you enough for saving my love and me. And now we can be together in peace, with no one to interfere," she said, beaming at him.

"Put me down at once, you two-faced monstrosity!" shrieked a familiar voice, and a second later, Two-Face appeared in the clearing, still carrying a struggling and shrieking Lady Pamela over his shoulder.

"Pamela, whatever are you doing here?" asked Maid Harley, astonished.

"This hideous brute kidnapped me!" screamed Lady Pamela, as Two-Face dropped her onto the ground.

"She said she goes where you go, so I obliged her," said Two-Face, shrugging. "I kind of regret I did now, when all the thanks I get is a bunch of insults."

"You take your filthy hands off my lady now!" shouted Lady Pamela, helping herself up and charging toward Robbin' Joker. She was once again restrained by Two-Face.

"Gee, thanks for bringing her along, Harvey," said Robbin' Joker, his voice dripping sarcasm. "Just what I wanted to be stuck with, the codpiece-blocker."

"You even think about my lady like that, and I'll cut you," hissed Lady Pamela.

"Pamela, calm down!" snapped Maid Harley. "J and I are in love, and frankly, that love is none of your business. It's nobody's business but our own. I don't mind you staying here as my friend, but you will not tell me what I may and may not do, nor will you order around the man I love."

"But my lady, if you could just realize that what you feel for this man is not love, and that one day you'll regret giving up everything for this pathetic outlaw…" began Lady Pamela.

"I would also ask that you refrain from trying to tell me about my own feelings," interrupted Maid Harley. "I know my own heart, and it belongs to J. I trust it and him completely. I don't need to know anyone else's feelings on the matter but my own, so in future, please keep your opinions about my personal life to yourself."

She took Robbin' Joker's hand. "Come along, J. Let's go someplace where we can have some privacy."

"My lady, don't allow yourself to be alone with an outlaw – he'll only try to take advantage of you!" shouted Lady Pamela as Maid Harley and Robbin' Joker headed off into the woods.

"Well, you're now alone with outlaws, and I'm pretty sure nobody here is going to try anything with you," retorted Catwoman. "Johnny, get dinner started."

"Why am I always the one who has to cook?" demanded Crane. "We actually have a lady-in-waiting with us now – why can't she cook?"

"Are you implying that just because I'm a woman, I'll automatically be an excellent cook?" demanded Lady Pamela. "Are you implying that cooking is women's work, and it's demeaning of you to do that? Are you implying that I should confine myself to the kitchen, like all women should in your twisted mind?!"

"Um…no," stammered Crane. "I just assumed…that would be a skill you had because you're a servant for Maid Harley."

"I'm a lady-in-waiting, not a cook!" snapped Lady Pamela. "There's a world of difference!"

"Some of us wouldn't know, not having experienced a life of luxury," retorted Crane.

"Yes, what does a lady-in-waiting actually do?" asked Catwoman. "Enlighten us."

"I wait on my lady," retorted Lady Pamela. "And protect her from the dangers of the world, and of men in particular. Or at least, I try to."

"What have men ever done to you that you feel you need to protect Maid Harley from them?" asked Catwoman.

"Plenty," retorted Lady Pamela. "They're all selfish and deceptive, claiming to love you, and then abandoning you once they've taken what they want from you. They're completely untrustworthy, the lot of them."

"Sounds like you had a bad experience," commented Two-Face. "But that's no reason to tar all men with the same brush. We're mostly all right. There's probably an equal amount of bad men as there are bad women out there."

"Yes, now we're pretty evenly matched in our band of outlaws," said Catwoman, nodding. "With you and Maid Harley here, we've got an equal number of men and women."

"My lady and I are not part of your band of outlaws!" snapped Lady Pamela. "I'm going to get both of us away from here as soon as possible!"

"Good luck," retorted Two-Face. "J isn't going to let her leave, and she clearly doesn't want to. You're both stuck here for the foreseeable future, so you should try to make the best of it."

Lady Pamela glared at him, but said nothing. Crane began to gather ingredients for the stew, and it wasn't long before Lady Pamela commented, "You're doing that wrong. You need more seasoning. Don't you people have any herbs? You live in a forest, after all."

"You're welcome to go find some," retorted Crane, slicing a mushroom.

"If you eat that, it's going to kill you," snapped Lady Pamela. "Honestly, how have you people survived this long without knowing basic things about plants?!"

"Are you some kind of plant expert?" asked Crane, sarcastically.

"I am, actually," retorted Lady Pamela. "I love plants."

"Then you'll fit right in living in a forest, won't you?" asked Catwoman.

"And you're welcome to take over the cooking," agreed Crane, shoving the stew pot at her.

"Yes, give it a try," said Two-Face. "You can't be any worse than Johnny."

Lady Pamela glared at him, but slowly took the pot and began hunting around for herbs. "I should just poison you all," she muttered. "But I'm hungry after that kidnapping."

…

"It's a beautiful forest, J," said Maid Harley, as she and Robbin' Joker wandered underneath the leafy green canopy and among the flower-carpeted grass.

"Yeah, and I've saved the best for last," said Robbin' Joker, nodding at a giant, gnarled old tree in front of them. He grabbed ahold of one of the branches and pulled himself up the trunk, then held his hand out to Maid Harley. "C'mon," he said.

She laughed. "I can't possibly climb that!" she exclaimed.

"Why not? I'll help you," he said.

"I'm wearing a dress – it makes climbing very difficult," she said.

"Just tuck it between your legs or something," said Robbin' Joker, shrugging.

"As a lady, I can't possibly…" began Maid Harley, but then she stopped and smiled. "All right," she said, rolling her skirt up and then tucking it out of the way. She tentatively put her foot up on the trunk, and then began to scale it slowly, with Robbin' Joker's help.

They reached the top at last, which revealed an area big enough for two people to comfortably sit in, and a spectacular view. The sun was just setting over the forest, dyeing the leaves red and golden. In the distance, the clouds looked like brushstrokes of light purple in the fading light.

"It's so beautiful, J," whispered Maid Harley.

"It sure is," agreed Robbin' Joker, gazing at her.

She blushed, cuddling against him as they watched the sunset together. "See what kinda great things you can see if you don't let yourself be bound by the rules of society?" asked Robbin' Joker. "You woulda missed this spectacular sunset if you'd insisted you couldn't climb because of your dress."

"I'll never be bound by any rules again," murmured Maid Harley.

"That's good to hear, toots," he said, putting an arm around her. "You'll never be unhappy that way."

"I'll never be unhappy with you," she replied. "I love you, J."

"Yeah, you must," agreed Robbin' Joker. "That's the only reason you'd give up everything to be with me right now."

"I don't regret it," she said. "I never imagined I could feel as happy as I do right now with you. I never knew such feelings were even possible."

He kissed her forehead. "I always dreamed about a man like you, you know," she murmured. "Brave, strong, handsome…"

"Clown?" he asked, grinning.

"Sense of humor, yes," agreed Maid Harley, smiling at him.

"Outlaw?" he asked.

"Oh, that part is a bonus," she said, grinning. "I never knew being attracted to such a bad man could feel so right. But then I suppose that means there's a bad person in me too."

"I think there probably is, toots," he agreed. "And it'd be such a shame not to let her out."

"I don't think Maid Harley is an appropriate name for a bad lady," replied Maid Harley. "What would you suggest for my outlaw name?"

"Well, let's see," he said. He thought for a moment and then said, "You could join in the clown theme and call yourself Harley Quinn."

"What does Harley Quinn have to do with a clown?" asked Maid Harley, puzzled.

"Oh, that's right, Harlequin probably hasn't been invented yet," muttered Robbin' Joker. "Just trust me, toots – in a couple hundred years, it'll be a good joke."

Maid Harley shrugged. "All right. I do trust you. Harley Quinn it is."

"So…you're up for losing the Maid part of your name?" he asked, sidling closer to her. "And what about the Maid part of yourself?"

She stared at him, puzzled. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

"Oh…right," he stammered. "Gee, this is…kinda awkward, having to explain this to you…uh…your lady-in-waiting didn't have the talk with you?"

"What talk?" asked Maid Harley.

"The…talk about…things that can happen between men and women," said Robbin' Joker, slowly.

"You mean courting?" asked Maid Harley. "And how it can lead to marriage?"

"Uh…like that," agreed Robbin' Joker. "Did she explain what would happen…the night after you got married?"

"No," replied Maid Harley. "Only that I would find out on the night, and that I probably wouldn't enjoy it, but it's something husbands and wives have to do, so I would just have to put up with it and make the best of it."

"Wow…that's…romantic," said Robbin' Joker. "Ok…never mind, then."

"You could tell me what you mean," said Maid Harley. "Or show me, if you like."

"Nah, I'd feel kinda bad if you don't know what you're consenting to," he said. "I'll show you after we're married."

"You…want to marry me?" asked Maid Harley, astonished.

"Sure," he said, shrugging. "I mean, we got the friar stopping by often enough – he might as well make himself useful. That is, if you want to marry me, of course."

"Of course I do," she said, beaming.

He reached up and plucked a sapling from one of the branches, tying it into a small circle which he then slid onto her finger. "There you go," he said. "Engagement ring. Until I can steal you something nicer, anyway."

"I think I prefer this one to all the jewels you could steal," she replied, twining her fingers into his. "Wild and perfect, like my outlaw."

They kissed tenderly, and then leaned against each other as they watched the sun disappear completely behind the trees, and the stars begin lighting up the night sky.


	11. Chapter 11

"I want them found!" roared Sir Bruce, banging his fist on the table in front of him. "I want Maid Harley and her lady-in-waiting rescued, and I want the outlaws who kidnapped them hanged!"

"The men are trying, my lord," replied Alfred, gently. "But the outlaws are very good at hiding, and Arkham Forest is very large and dense, and they know it well. At the moment, it appears they've disappeared without a trace."

"I will not tolerate failure!" shouted Sir Bruce, flinging his glass of wine against the wall so it shattered. "And I will not let the outlaws get away with what they've done! Humiliating me at my own tournament, and kidnapping my intended…"

"Is she…really your intended when she won't consent to the marriage, my lord?" asked Alfred, slowly.

"She's my intended if I say she's my intended!" snapped Sir Bruce. "She doesn't have a choice! Once she's back, I'm summoning her father, and he'll command her to marry me, and I don't care what that ridiculous friar thinks! I'll order him to marry us, or I'll execute him along with the outlaws…"

He trailed off slowly. "Alfred," he said, turning to his servant. "How did the outlaw know the tournament was a trap?"

"I surmise that when he heard that the skill being tested was archery, and the prize was a kiss from Maid Harley, he suspected something of the sort," replied Alfred. "It was basically tailored specifically to appeal to him, after all."

"Maybe," agreed Sir Bruce. "But personally, I don't think the outlaw is that clever. I think someone must have warned him."

"You think Maid Harley got a message to him somehow?" asked Alfred. "Surely you can't suspect any of your servants here of betraying you like that?"

"No. Not my servants," murmured Sir Bruce. "But someone who refused to serve me and bow to my wishes."

He sat down at his desk and scribbled something onto a piece of parchment. He then picked up a candle, dripping the red wax onto the parchment, and then planting his signet ring onto it, in the symbol of a bat.

"Here," he said, handing the parchment to Alfred. "Give that to the captain of the guards. It's an arrest warrant, by the authority vested in me as the Sheriff of Gotham."

"As you wish, sir," said Alfred, bowing. "May I ask who it is you are ordering arrested?"

"The man who told the outlaw about my plan," retorted Sir Bruce. "The man who refused to perform my marriage. The man who secretly conspires with the outlaws to humiliate me. Friar Tetch."

Alfred stared at him. "Sir…you cannot arrest a man of the church!"

"Why not?" demanded Sir Bruce. "If he breaks the law, he deserves to be punished like everyone else!"

"Because it simply isn't done, sir," replied Alfred. "It will be looked upon very badly, by both the people and the king. If not even the clergy is safe from persecution, who is?"

"I'm not persecuting anyone!" snapped Sir Bruce. "I am holding criminals to account for their crimes! This man conspires with criminals, and priest or not, he'll face justice for that!"

"Do you have any proof of his conspiracy?" asked Alfred, gently.

"I will," retorted Sir Bruce. "After you arrest him. I'll make him talk."

"Sir, you cannot torture a man of the church…" began Alfred.

"I have the authority to do whatever is necessary to weed out the outlaws here in Gotham," interrupted Sir Bruce. "I have the authority granted me by his majesty the King of England, and that authority gives me the right to do anything I see fit in order to accomplish my mission. If this includes the arrest and torture of a conspirator, man of the church or not, I have the authority to do that. Now go give that arrest warrant to Captain Gordon and I don't want to hear another word about it!"

Alfred sighed heavily. "Very well, sir," he murmured, heading out of the study. "I just hope you know what you're doing."

…

"You're right, Jervis, this…tea, did you say it was called? It's incredibly good," said Crane, sipping his drink as he and Friar Tetch sat in the vestibule of the village church.

"You're welcome to take some back to the camp with you," said Friar Tetch. "I can get plenty more through the church."

"No, no need to share it with the rest of the men," replied Crane. "And women now."

"Yes, how is Maid Harley settling in?" asked Friar Tetch.

"Oh, she couldn't be happier," replied Crane. "I don't know what such a beautiful, kind, gentle woman sees in a man like J, but there's no accounting for taste, I suppose."

"Yes, women are a mystery," agreed Friar Tetch. "And my inability to solve that mystery is one of the reasons I joined the church."

"Believe me, I'm tempted," said Crane. "Especially since you can apparently get tea through it."

"Just don't let the church council know you were almost burned as a witch," said Friar Tetch. "They might be reluctant to ordain you then."

"The fewer people in general who know that, the better," retorted Crane. "It was not my finest hour. Although my revenge for it certainly was – did you see how effective that homemade explosive was? Did you see how everybody ran shrieking in fear from me?"

"Yes. Of course, as a man of God, I would always counsel forgiveness over revenge against your enemies," said Friar Tetch, gently.

"And when they get to God, He can forgive them," agreed Crane. "I am not God, and am therefore under no such obligation."

"That's not quite how religion works…" began Friar Tetch slowly, when they suddenly heard a commotion from outside, and then a loud banging on the church doors.

"This is Captain Gordon of Sir Bruce's guard!" shouted a voice. "Open up now, Friar Tetch!"

"Go hide," muttered Friar Tetch to Crane as he stood up. Crane hurried out to hide in the confessional while Friar Tetch called, "God's door is always open, my child! Just pull!"

There was an embarrassed silence, and then the captain of the guard pulled open the door slowly. "We tried pushing, but…we didn't try pulling," he muttered.

"I can see why Sir Bruce's men have been so effective at finding the outlaws," said Friar Tetch, nodding.

Captain Gordon glared at him, and then snapped at his men, "Arrest him at once."

"Arrest me?" repeated Friar Tetch, shocked. "On what grounds?"

"Aiding and abetting the Arkham outlaws," growled Captain Gordon, shoving Sir Bruce's seal in his face. "Our orders come directly from Sir Bruce."

"Forgive me, but I am certain Sir Bruce does not have the authority to…" began Friar Tetch.

"He has the authority of the Sheriff of Gotham, a position granted him by the king, to punish the outlaws and any co-conspirators of theirs," interrupted Captain Gordon. "And he knows you're conspiring with them."

Friar Tetch drew himself up. "I have not conspired with anyone," he retorted. "What I have done, God will judge me for, not you, and not Sir Bruce."

"And God can judge you when you get to Him," retorted Captain Gordon. "For now, Sir Bruce is judging you."

"That's not quite how religion works…" repeated Friar Tetch, but he was interrupted by a guard clapping handcuffs onto his wrists.

"Sir Bruce has the authority to uphold justice here on earth, and to judge those he finds lacking," continued Captain Gordon. "And he finds you lacking. You're under arrest, and you're going to be taken to the dungeons at Wayne Manor. Sir Bruce will interrogate you, and if he finds you guilty of conspiring with outlaws and betraying him, he will hang you. So you'll be able to face God's judgment a little sooner than you thought. Take him away!" he barked at the men.

Crane watched them leave through the windows of the confessional, and then dashed out of the church and straight back to Arkham Forest.


	12. Chapter 12

"All right, bullseye, toots!" exclaimed Robbin' Joker, beaming at Maid Harley as she let loose another arrow that buried itself in the target. "You're a natural!"

Maid Harley smiled at him. "I think it's these new trousers," she said, nodding down. "You can't do anything in a dress. Your whole body feels restricted."

"They really suit you, toots," commented Robbin' Joker, as Maid Harley did a little twirl in her newly acquired trousers.

"And they're so much more comfortable than a dress," she said. "I can't thank you enough for letting me borrow your spare pair, Selina."

"Hey, don't worry about it," said Catwoman, shrugging. "I know how uncomfortable a dress is, especially when you need to climb trees and fight and do any actual work. I'm just glad they fit."

"Well, I'm sure Lady Pamela could have made adjustments if they hadn't," said Maid Harley. "Speaking of which, where is she?" she asked, looking around. "I would have expected her to start protesting my state of dress by now, let alone you teaching me archery. I'm sure she considers it a very unladylike pursuit."

"She headed down to the stream to get some water with Two-Face," said Catwoman.

"Why did both of them go?" asked Robbin' Joker.

"Two-Face offered to carry the buckets back if they were too heavy, and Lady Pamela accepted the offer," said Catwoman.

"Really?" asked Maid Harley, surprised. "Normally Lady Pamela won't accept help from anyone, especially not a man. She would accuse him of questioning her capability to complete the task by even offering."

"Maybe her time in the forest has mellowed her out," said Catwoman, shrugging. "She seems less aggressive than when she first arrived."

"Maybe to you," retorted Robbin' Joker. "I thought she was gonna castrate me that first night when Harley and me got back late from the woods. Especially since Harley was all disheveled and dirty from that tree climbing. But since Harley failed to know what she was talking about, even with Lady Pamela giving her a lot of graphic imagery, I think she believed me eventually when I told her nothing happened. But she still gets this crazy look in her eyes when she sees me and Harley together. It looks like she's an affectionate look away from snapping and killing us all. You're gonna have to chain her up after we're married, Harl."

"There you two are!" exclaimed Catwoman, as Lady Pamela and Two-Face returned to camp. "You've been gone long enough, and some of us are thirsty!"

"Have you done some tree climbing, Pamela?" asked Maid Harley. "You look very disheveled."

Lady Pamela and Two-Face shared a look. "Uh…no, no tree climbing," said Lady Pamela, hastily, adjusting her rumpled clothes. Then she noticed Maid Harley's clothes, and instantly went on the offensive. "My lady, whatever are you wearing?! You cannot possibly be seen in public in such things!"

"Why not?" asked Maid Harley. "It's practical, living in a forest. And these trousers are so comfortable. I don't think I'm ever going back to wearing a dress, except on our wedding day, of course," she said, kissing Robbin' Joker.

"Yeah, next time Friar Tetch stops by, we'll have to start discussing wedding arrangements," said Robbin' Joker, nodding. "Never been one for church weddings myself, so I'm thinking we'll have it out here in the forest."

"Johnny goes to see him enough – he should mention it next time he's at the church," said Catwoman. "Where is Johnny, anyway?" she asked, looking around.

"Probably with the friar right now," replied Robbin' Joker. "If he really is a witch, Tetchy's probably trying to convert him back to the path of righteousness or something."

Crane suddenly burst into camp at that moment, panting and wheezing from the run. "There, y'see, he is a witch!" exclaimed Robbin' Joker, triumphantly. "We were talking about him, and now here he is! Speak of the devil and he shall appear, isn't that how the saying goes?"

"I'm not…the devil!" hissed Crane, glaring at him as he tried to catch his breath. "And I'm not…a witch! I ran here…because…Sir Bruce's men…have captured…Friar Tetch."

"What? Why?" asked Catwoman, confused.

"He can't arrest a man of the church," said Two-Face.

"He can and has," retorted Crane. "His men accused him of collaborating with us. If Sir Bruce finds him guilty, they'll hang him."

"He can't hang a man of the church!" exclaimed Maid Harley, aghast. "My cousin is not so far gone as that!"

"I believe he's mad with rage from his humiliation at the tournament, my lady," said Crane. "And his madness is forcing him to extreme measures in order to get revenge for it. He will stop at nothing until he has a final reckoning with J, apparently even persecuting innocent people. But we simply have to rescue Jervis. It's our fault he's been arrested."

"Actually, it's that paranoid nutcase Sir Bruce's fault," retorted Robbin' Joker. "He's the one seeing conspiracies everywhere. We're not to blame for his delusions."

"J, we can't let him hang the friar," said Two-Face.

"Yes, I won't stand by and see it happen," said Crane. "Not when we can rescue him."

"Rescue him?" repeated Lady Pamela. "From the Batcave? That's impossible."

"What's the Batcave?" asked Two-Face, puzzled.

"It's Sir Bruce's name for the dungeons," explained Lady Pamela. "Because they're in a cave, and there are a lot of bats there. It's also Sir Bruce's personal sanctum – he likes to go there and brood while interrogating prisoners. Anyway, it's pretty well fortified – basically an inescapable fortress."

"You've been there?" asked Robbin' Joker.

"I have too," said Maid Harley, nodding.

"Well, in that case, we got nothing to worry about," said Robbin' Joker. "You two ladies must know some way to get us inside. We sneak in, grab the friar, and sneak out before he even knows we were there."

"Wasn't that your plan for rescuing Maid Harley?" asked Crane. "And look how that turned out."

"Yeah, great," retorted Robbin' Joker. "Maid Harley's here with us. Mission accomplished. That's what I call a successful plan."

"You forget that you were almost killed," reminded Catwoman. "And that you needed us to rush in and rescue you at the last minute. If we all work together to break into the Batcave, who's going to rescue us if things go wrong?"

Robbin' Joker shrugged. "We rescue ourselves. If it comes down to a fight between me and the Batman, I'm thinking I can probably take him."

"J, I don't want you to get hurt!" exclaimed Maid Harley. "My cousin will show you no mercy – he fully intends to kill you! And he's a knight of the realm, a trained fighter! I'm not sure you have the skills to defeat him!"

"Doncha trust me, toots?" he asked.

"Of course I do," she replied. "But I don't trust my cousin in this state. If it did come down to a fight between you two, I don't know that he wouldn't fight dirty."

"He ain't the only one who can do that!" chuckled Robbin' Joker. "Don't you worry, toots. I always got a few aces up my sleeves. I'll be fine."

"Well, I'm coming with you," said Maid Harley, firmly.

"Actually, I'd rather Lady Pamela showed me around the Batcave, while you stay safely here with Selina," said Robbin' Joker.

"What?" demanded Catwoman. "Why can't I come?"

"Because I'd rather a lady looked after her, and Lady Pamela has to come with me," retorted Robbin' Joker.

"But I don't want to miss out on a good fight!" exclaimed Catwoman.

"And I don't want to let you go without me!" exclaimed Maid Harley.

"And I'd happily stay behind and look after Maid Harley instead of Selina," spoke up Crane.

"Who's in charge here?" demanded Robbin' Joker. "Craney, I want you with me for your witch powers. They could come in handy in a tight spot."

"I'm not a witch!" shouted Crane.

"And my cats could come in handy too, you know!" retorted Catwoman. "Probably a lot more than Johnny's non-existent powers!"

"I repeat, who's in charge here?" asked Robbin' Joker. "You're gonna follow my orders, and my orders are that Selina stays behind with Harley. The boys and Lady Pamela and me are going to handle this. After all, we can't let Sir Brucie hang Friar Tetch - he can't officiate our wedding if he's dead."

"I am not going with you," snapped Lady Pamela. "I don't want the friar to officiate your wedding, because I don't want there to be a wedding. And I am not helping a bunch of outlaws break into Sir Bruce's inner sanctum!"

"Ok, then I guess Harley is coming with me," said Robbin' Joker, shrugging. "I'm gonna need someone who knows the Batcave, so it's either you or her."

Lady Pamela glared at him. "You wouldn't dare put my lady in danger…"

"I'd really love to come with him, actually," spoke up Maid Harley.

"Well, you can't," snapped Lady Pamela. "I'm going with him. So let's hurry up and get this over with, boys."

"I'll be back soon, I promise, kid," said Robbin' Joker, kissing Maid Harley gently as he left with Lady Pamela, Two-Face, and Crane. Catwoman glared after them.

"We're following them, right?" asked Maid Harley a few moments after they were gone.

"Of course we're following them," growled Catwoman, grabbing her whip. "They can't take care of themselves. Men never can."


	13. Chapter 13

"You're just going to have to trust me," snapped Lady Pamela, as she, Robbin' Joker, Two-Face, and Crane hid on the edge of the forest with Wayne Manor in sight. A procession of people were making their way through the main gate, while a smaller procession of servants were heading around to the back entrance. From the talking, they managed to gather that there was some sort of feast tonight.

"I don't," retorted Robbin' Joker. "Not as far as I can throw you, and that's probably quite a distance."

"It's the only way to get inside the Batcave," snapped Lady Pamela.

"Why can't we just sneak in with this group here?" demanded Two-Face, nodding at the guests going through the main gate.

"They're all being searched," said Lady Pamela, nodding at the guards, who pulled aside each guest as they went through the gate. "Our only chance is to pass for servants. Fortunately, I am one, so I know my way around the servants quarters, and how to get to the Batcave from there."

"And you couldn't think of something less humiliating for getting us inside?" demanded Crane.

"No. Can you?" asked Lady Pamela. "It's not my fault Sir Bruce only employs female servants except for Alfred. I mean, women do tend to be the best at everything, and Sir Bruce is enlightened enough to see that, so it makes sense to me, but it's rather unfortunate for you."

"Hey, I don't mind a bit of cross-dressing," said Robbin' Joker, shrugging. "I'm completely secure in my masculinity for it not to be an issue. Dunno about these losers here," he said, nodding at Crane and Two-Face.

"Can't I just wait outside?" asked Two-Face. "I doubt any of the ladies are my size anyway, and it's going to be pretty difficult to conceal my build, not to mention my face…"

"Nobody looks too closely at a servant," interrupted Lady Pamela. "That's the one advantage we have – we can sneak around pretty much anywhere and be unseen. The guards on the back door won't look twice at you, so it's your only chance to sneak in. Unless you'd rather storm the manor and take your chances with the guards."

"No, subtlety is better at this point," agreed Robbin' Joker. "Wouldn't wanna die and disappoint Harley's hopes for our wedding night."

"There won't be a wedding night on my watch," muttered Lady Pamela.

"You won't be invited," retorted Robbin' Joker. "All right, let's discreetly find some ladies to knock out and steal their clothing. We're gonna need a slim but strong one for my build, a witch-looking one for Little Johnny's build, and a broad, ugly one for Harvey's build."

"He's much more attractive than you," snapped Lady Pamela. "Anyway, it shouldn't matter how you look, like I said. Just grab the first women you can."

"This is most ungentlemanly," said Crane. "I don't approve of any aspect of this plan, for the record."

"You're an outlaw, not a gentleman," retorted Robbin' Joker. "So get to knocking out women and stealing their clothes."

That part of the plan went fairly efficiently, despite Crane's protests. As they all snuck in through the back door, one of the guards casually looked in their direction, but was swiftly sidetracked by Lady Pamela distracting his attention, brushing up beside him and flirting with him a little.

"I coulda done that," said Robbin' Joker, shrugging.

"I doubt he would have responded as warmly," retorted Lady Pamela, once they were inside. "Now follow me."

"When can we stop wearing these ridiculous garments?" demanded Two-Face.

"Not enjoying it, Harvey?" chuckled Robbin' Joker. "To be fair, neither am I. Harley's right – this stuff is so restrictive. I'm taking 'em off when we get to the Batcave – if we need to fight, this won't help."

"Hopefully there won't be any need for fighting," muttered Lady Pamela, leading them down a corridor. "Not if we're careful."

She put a finger to her lips, and then led them down the spiral stairs at the end of the hall. These twisted and turned, and the light got progressively dimmer as they descended underground into the depths of the earth. Moisture dripped from the walls, and they could just hear the soft squeaking of what were most definitely bats coming from directly above them.

They emerged into a massive cavern lined with cages. Here they could feel the stare of the bats on them as hundreds of red eyes blinked out from the darkness. "Sir Bruce…likes this, huh?" asked Robbin' Joker. "Cuckoo," he muttered, twirling a finger around his temple.

"Jervis!" exclaimed Crane, racing over to a cell. "Are you all right? Has Sir Bruce hurt you?"

"I'm fine," said Friar Tetch. "Sir Bruce interrogated me, and kept shouting, 'Where are they?!' at me, but his servant insisted he not harm a man of God before he could get too violent. As for being stuck in here, I actually don't mind bats, but I'd kill for a cup of tea. Why are…you all dressed as women?" he asked, slowly.

"Oh right, forgot we were wearing that!" chuckled Robbin' Joker, as he and the others hastily stripped off their out layer. "See, you do get used to it!"

"It was our disguise to get in," said Crane. "We're here to rescue you."

"Well, let's hurry up about it then," said Friar Tetch.

"There's a feast going on upstairs – if we can all sneak out through the servants quarters the way we came in, they might not notice our presence," said Crane, as Two-Face struck his staff against the lock, breaking it instantly.

"A feast?" repeated Friar Tetch. "What for? Sir Bruce has precious little to celebrate after his humiliation at the tournament."

"It's to celebrate the capture and swift, public execution of the Arkham outlaws, of course," said a voice behind them. They turned to see Sir Bruce standing there, surrounded by twenty of his guards. "I knew you'd come to rescue him," he murmured, nodding at Friar Tetch. "I knew my trap would work this time. The problem with the tournament was that it was all out in the open, in your domain. This trap was in mine. There's nowhere for you to run – there's no way out of the Batcave except the way you came in. And now you will be taken upstairs, where all of Gotham is gathered, and I personally will swing the sword that will separate your bodies from your heads. Starting with you," he said, nodding at Robbin' Joker.

"Ok…but if you kill us, you'll never know where Maid Harley is," said Robbin' Joker.

"I'll tell him," retorted Lady Pamela. "The sooner my lady is back safely with an honorable man like Sir Bruce, the sooner I can stop worrying about her."

"Gee, you're a real pal," said Robbin' Joker. "I'm sure Harley really appreciates that she has someone who will completely disregard her wishes under the guise of protecting her. That's not at all patronizing."

"My cousin is no longer any of your concern," snapped Sir Bruce. "Nor will anything be in a few minutes, when I end your miserable little lives. Bring them upstairs," he said, nodding at his men.

"The friar too?" asked one, warily.

"The friar too," said Sir Bruce, nodding. "Anyone who conspires with outlaws will meet the same fate. Those who break the law must be punished. That is true justice. And I will have true justice in Gotham."

He turned. "Bring them," he repeated to the men. "This ends tonight."


	14. Chapter 14

"And then, if you're lucky, after you've had your satisfaction, the man has his, and then it deflates, and he withdraws," finished Catwoman as she and Maid Harley walked through the forest together. "That's how it's supposed to work, anyway, but I've known my fair share of men who don't care how you feel as long as they're satisfied."

"I…see," stammered Maid Harley. "Well, that's…graphic. But informative."

"Hey, you asked what happens on a wedding night – I'm just answering your question," said Catwoman, shrugging. "I'm not sure what kinda guy J is in that respect, but then I'm not sure what you see in him as a romantic partner anyway. Personally I wouldn't touch that with a barge pole, but people have different tastes, I guess. I prefer my men with more muscle. Like your cousin."

"What about my cousin?" asked Maid Harley.

"He's my type," replied Catwoman. "Really attractive. Physically, anyway. Personality-wise, he's a bit of a jerk. Plus with me being an outlaw and all, I doubt it would ever work out between us."

"Well, you're welcome to him," said Maid Harley. "At least then he'd stop pursuing me. And maybe you can help him understand that not all outlaws are bad, and he can give up this ridiculous vendetta against you all. "

"Keep dreaming, my lady," retorted Catwoman. "Your cousin's a fanatic for justice. And there's no changing the mind of a fanatic. There's only one way to deal with those people, and that's to burn them."

"Burn them?" repeated Maid Harley.

"Well, burning's the most common punishment, but there's also beheading, hanging, flaying, impaling, poisoning, drowning, stoning, defenestration…"

"Those all sound rather barbaric," interrupted Maid Harley.

"It's a barbaric time, my lady," sighed Catwoman. "My personal preference would be death by cat – at least that way my pets have something to eat."

They arrived at the gates outside of Wayne Manor to see them unguarded. Lights were blazing inside, and they heard a commotion coming from the great hall. Catwoman scaled the wall with little difficulty, and then helped Maid Harley over. "What do you suppose is going on in there?" asked Maid Harley, nodding at the great hall.

"Only one way to find out," replied Catwoman, snapping her whip onto one of the gargoyles hanging from the manor and scaling up the wall to an open window. Maid Harley struggled to follow her, but at last they both perched on the ledge, looking out across the great hall. The entire town appeared to have gathered there, watching Sir Bruce, who addressed the crowd as his men restrained the outlaws.

"This is the dawning of a new age in Gotham," Sir Bruce announced. "An age of peace, and order, and justice, free from the tyranny of criminals and outlaws. Crime in Gotham will be non-existent from this point on, because now you will all see what happens to criminals in my town, and to those who collude with them," he said, nodding at Friar Tetch. "These men will all be dealt swift, harsh justice, beginning with their leader," he said, withdrawing his sword and beckoning forward the guard who restrained Robbin' Joker.

"We have to save him!" gasped Maid Harley.

"Ok, we need a plan," said Catwoman, looking around the great hall.

"There's no time to form a plan!" snapped Maid Harley, as the guard forced Robbin' Joker's head down on the chopping block, and Sir Bruce raised his sword.

"Thus, with a stroke, I destroy crime in Gotham," murmured Sir Bruce, his eyes alight.

He prepared to bring down the sword, when an arrow suddenly collided with the blade, knocking it from his hand and sending it spinning across the stone floor. Everyone turned to see Maid Harley perched on the window ledge, the string of her bow quivering as she notched another arrow.

"Hands off my outlaw!" she commanded.

"My lady!" gasped Lady Pamela. "What are you doing?! Put down that weapon and come down here at once!"

"Do not order me around anymore, Pamela," snapped Maid Harley, keeping her arrow fixed on Sir Bruce. "I am not going to let you hurt these men."

"Harley, stay out of this!" snapped Sir Bruce. "These are outlaws, and I am going to make them pay for their crimes! It is justice!"

"You talk of justice?" demanded Maid Harley. "You, of all people, Sir Bruce? Who lives in this vast mansion while the people of Gotham starve at your gates? Who hordes wealth and servants and holds feasts while the people you are sworn to protect waste away? Who clothes yourself in finery and riches while the peasants wear rags on their backs? Is that justice? Or is justice only what you deem it to be, when it affects you personally? I do not agree with your definition of justice, and nor, I believe, do the people of Gotham. If they have to choose to ally themselves with the free outlaws of Arkham, or your oppression, I know which I would choose. I know which I have chosen. I stand with freedom, as lawless as it might be. I stand with the outlaws."

A mighty cheer rose up at Maid Harley's speech from the people of Gotham. Maid Harley kept her arrow fixed on Sir Bruce, who was seething. "You harm them, and we take you down," she said. "All of us, united, together. So let them go, if you value your life."

Sir Bruce glared at her, and then snapped, "Execute them," at his captain of the guard.

Captain Gordon unsheathed his sword to do just that, when Robbin' Joker snapped his head back, braining the man who held him down. Then he whirled around, punching Captain Gordon in the face and grabbing his sword. Then he turned to face Sir Bruce, nodding at his dropped sword. "Let's do this," said Robbin' Joker.

The guards rushed to restrain him, but were intercepted by the citizens of Gotham, who rallied around the Arkham outlaws. "This is certainly a change of pace from them trying to burn me," commented Crane, as his ropes were cut.

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Johnny," said Two-Face, grabbing a sword from a fallen guard. "Anyway, you didn't have a pretty girl pleading your case. That always helps rouse people, in more ways than one."

"Harvey, look out!" shrieked Lady Pamela, as a guard rushed at Two-Face's back with a drawn sword. She grabbed a tray from the feast table and slammed it across the guard's face. Two-Face turned to her, surprised.

" _You're_ on our side, Pamela?"

Lady Pamela shrugged. "My lady does make sense sometimes. Plus I…kinda like you."

Two-Face smiled hopefully. "Yeah?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said, grinning. "I still hate the clown, though," she added.

"Don't worry – most of us do too," agreed Two-Face, as he and Lady Pamela engaged the guards together.

"My children, God says thou shalt not kill, so please do be careful!" called Friar Tetch over the crowd. "If you must beat them, make sure you don't beat them fatally! You will find your reward in heaven!"

Maid Harley continued to shoot arrows from her vantage point, while Catwoman made her way through the crowd to join her band, knocking people out of the way with her whip. "Where's J?" she shouted at Crane.

"No idea!" he retorted. A guard ran towards him, and Crane looked around helplessly for a weapon as the guard raised his sword. Then Crane turned to him, drew himself up, and said, "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"Why not?" demanded the guard.

"Because…I am a witch," said Crane, sternly. "And if you strike me down, I shall curse your children, and your children's children, and your children's children's children. Your family line until it dies out, whimpering and pathetic, will be a cursed one, with every member condemned to suffer their greatest fears. Over and over, in their waking hours and in their nightmares, they will see before them the thing they fear the most. They will collapse into a whimpering, gibbering mess, too scared to accomplish even the most basic tasks, until they die huddled in a ball, surrounded by their own filth. Of course you could always take the risk that I'm bluffing and kill me anyway, but I really think you're smarter than that, aren't you?"

The guard stared at him in terror, then dropped the sword and fled the hall as fast as his legs could carry him. "Good man," said Crane, picking up the sword and joining in the fray. "I suppose there's something to be said for being mistaken for a witch after all. At least you have fear on your side."

Meanwhile, Robbin' Joker and Sir Bruce were engaged in a sword-fight, trading blows as steel clashed against steel. "You have corrupted my cousin's mind!" hissed Sir Bruce, lashing out at him. "As well as her body, probably! I shall make you pay for that!"

"Hey, don't blame me for her finally seeing sense!" snapped Robbin' Joker. "If I'm honest, I usually have the opposite effect on people. But I suppose it's all based on your perspective of what sense is – from your point of view, she's probably talking crazy, which is more my thing…"

He ducked as Sir Bruce struck a blow that almost decapitated him, causing the sword to smash into a pillar instead. "Boy, you're serious about this killing me stuff, huh?" he asked.

"I am always serious," snapped Sir Bruce.

"Yeah, I'm kinda getting that," sighed Robbin' Joker. They had reached a staircase, and Sir Bruce and Robbin' Joker crossed swords as they ascended it, their shadows casting flickering reflections on the wall.

At the top of the stairs, Sir Bruce suddenly struck a blow at Robbin' Joker's leg. He fell to the ground, dropping his sword, and Sir Bruce stood over him, smiling in victory. "At least the better man won," he murmured, raising his sword. "Goodbye, outlaw."

Sir Bruce choked suddenly as a whip wrapped itself around his neck, dragging him back and down the stairs. He landed at the bottom, winded, to see Catwoman curling her whip around him to restrain him. She stood next to Maid Harley, who pointed an arrow at him. "I said, hands off my outlaw," she murmured.

"Harley, you will regret this…" began Sir Bruce, but Maid Harley grabbed his cape, rolled it up, and stuck it into his mouth, preventing further discussion.

"Should have done that a long time ago," she said. "Selina, can you have the men take him to the Batcave? To a cell in it, of course."

"With pleasure, my lady," said Catwoman.

"Harley?" called Robbin' Joker. Maid Harley raced up the stairs.

"You're hurt!" she exclaimed, dropping her bow and racing over to him when she saw blood pouring from his leg.

"It's all right – just a scratch," said Robbin' Joker, getting steadily to his feet with her help. "Looks worse than it is, I think."

"I'm glad," she said in relief, smiling up at him.

He smiled back. "I liked what you said, kiddo," he murmured. "You saved all of our lives. I dunno how I can ever repay you."

She grinned. "Selina's told me about one way," she murmured, kissing him deeply. "Is it hard yet?" she asked, eagerly.

"Is…what hard?" he asked, slowly.

"You know," she said, her hand sliding down to his crotch. "Selina said it had to be hard before we could make love, and she said you get it hard by kissing. So is it hard yet?" she asked, kissing him again and then squeezing hard.

"Holy crap, it's not now!" exclaimed Robbin' Joker, shoving her hand away. "Selina didn't tell you to be gentle down there?!"

"Um…no, she didn't," stammered Maid Harley, blushing. "She just gave me the basic mechanics of it."

"I'm gonna have a few strong words with her," muttered Robbin' Joker. "Anyway, we shouldn't be doing…anything like that…before we're married."

"Oh," said Maid Harley, in slight disappointment. "Well…can we be married tonight?"

He grinned. "I like your enthusiasm, kiddo," he replied. "And I'm sure that can be arranged."

He whistled down the stairs at his band and at the citizens of Gotham, who had either killed, knocked out, or beaten back Sir Bruce's men, and were now celebrating their victory. "Hey, losers!" he shouted. "Let's move this party to Arkham Forest! We got a wedding to celebrate!"


	15. Chapter 15

"And so, by the power vested in me as friar of the parish of Gotham, I now pronounce you man and wife," announced Friar Tetch. "You may kiss the bride."

The wedding party, comprised of the citizens of Gotham and the Merry Men, plus a very angry Sir Bruce tied up and gagged under the watchful eye of Catwoman, let out an almighty cheer as Maid Harley and Robbin' Joker kissed tenderly. Except Lady Pamela, that is, who glared at them both, seething.

"Pam? You're not going to snap and go crazy, are you?" asked Two-Face, warily.

"No," muttered Lady Pamela. "But my lady deserves so much better a man for her husband. Now she's allied herself to this outlaw scum for the rest of her life, and she'll never be happy."

"She looks pretty happy to me," commented Two-Face, nodding at Maid Harley's glowing face. "Maybe you should start letting her make her own decisions, Pam."

"Then I'd be out of a job," retorted Lady Pamela.

"Maybe...you could start looking after someone else instead," said Two-Face, hopefully.

"Don't push your luck, Harvey," snapped Lady Pamela.

Two-Face shrugged. "Worth a try," he muttered, heading over to congratulate the newlyweds. Robbin' Joker slipped a bag of gold into his hand.

"Remember, I want Pammie distracted for the next few days or so," he muttered.

"We both do," agreed Maid Harley.

"I'll do my best," said Two-Face. "But a guy only has so much stamina. Harley will find that out soon enough."

"Speak for yourself, Harvey!" chuckled Robbin' Joker. "I can go all night!"

"Right," said Two-Face, skeptically. "If Harley actually thinks that, she's in for a real disappointment."

"We're just gonna sneak off while everyone's distracted by the party," said Robbin' Joker, pulling Maid Harley off into the woods. "See you losers later!"

"That was an excellent ceremony, Jervis," said Crane to Friar Tetch.

"Thank you," said Friar Tetch. "It's actually the first wedding ceremony I've ever performed, so I hope I got it all right. I'm just glad I was able to perform the one Maid Harley wanted, rather than the one her cousin wanted."

"Speaking of which, what are we going to do with Sir Bruce?" asked Crane, nodding at him. "You're the person with the most authority left in this town, so I assume the decision is up to you."

Before Friar Tetch could respond, a group of Gotham villagers rushed over to him. "Friar Tetch, can we burn Sir Bruce?" one of them asked, eagerly. "I think that would be a great way to end the wedding."

"Burn…what? No!" snapped Friar Tetch. "Absolutely not!"

"But he might be a witch!" exclaimed one.

"He's not a witch!" snapped Friar Tetch. "Nobody here is a witch, and nobody here is being burned! I don't know what to do about Sir Bruce, but burning is never the answer!"

"Perhaps you should just send him back to where he came from in humiliation," said Crane. "Make him face the king and admit he's failed to defeat the outlaws. Surely there is no greater punishment for a man like him?"

"I'd have to send him back with someone to guard him," said Friar Tetch. "Someone I could trust to look after him and see that he doesn't escape."

"You called?" spoke up Catwoman. "I'd be happy to take Sir Bruce anywhere you want. He won't escape from under my watch, I guarantee it."

"If you're seriously volunteering, I very gratefully accept," said Friar Tetch. "But won't you be caught and hanged once you reach your destination for being an outlaw?"

"I doubt it," retorted Catwoman. "There's not been a jail yet that can hold me. Anyway, I do have nine lives, you know. I'll be fine."

Friar Tetch nodded. "I'll need to compose a letter to his majesty to send with you. Something along the lines of we do appreciate the thought of sending a sheriff to Gotham, but in future, he shouldn't waste his time sending his men to a den of madmen. Madness is incredibly contagious, as we've seen from Maid Harley. And we're all mad here, you know."

"I'll be sure to tell him when I see him," said Catwoman. "I'm going to go get packed while you write that letter – my cats need a lot of provisions for the road. Do pass on my congratulations to J – his wife's far too good for him. I only hope Harley isn't disappointed, in more ways than one."

The wedding celebrations lasted long into the evening. As dawn broke, Catwoman left the forest with Sir Bruce and her cats in tow, the latter keeping dozens of watchful eyes on the former. Crane headed deeper into the woods to wash the cobwebs from his brain in the stream, and was surprised to see someone already there.

"J?" he asked. "Where's Harley? Shouldn't you be with your wife?"

"Er…yeah, I should," he stammered. "Just told her I…needed a quick break from all the…stuff we've been doing." He splashed some water on his face. "She's very…uh…demanding, now that she's had a taste of…y'know. Once you destroy their innocence, they just turn into insatiable fiends. But I guess that's women for you."

"Puddin'?" called Maid Harley's voice from nearby. "You coming back soon?"

"Very soon, pumpkin pie!" he called back. "Just need a few minutes to…reload the old bang gun!"

"What's a bang gun?" asked Crane, puzzled.

"A euphemism," retorted Robbin' Joker, splashing more water on his face. "Anyway, I just gotta man up. Harley's gonna kill me if I can't perform anymore, even though I have literally been performing all night. This is why women should be educated about sex – otherwise they have unrealistic demands on their husbands."

Crane was silent, and then rummaged around in his bag. "Here you go," he said, handing Robbin' Joker a bottle. "Drink this, and you'll be ready to perform again in no time."

"What is it?" asked Robbin' Joker, eyeing it warily.

"An aphrodisiac made from herbs," replied Crane. "You see, I told you my medicines would save your life one day."

"How did you know?" asked Robbin' Joker.

Crane shrugged. "I am a witch, you know. It's my business to know these things. Anyway, I'm doing this for Harley, not for you. Now get back to your wife and make her glad she's married you."

Robbin' Joker swallowed the potion, and then clapped him on the back. "Thanks, Little Johnny, you're a pal. Just for this, maybe I'll stop calling you Little Johnny one day. But I wouldn't hold your breath."

He hurried back to Maid Harley, who smiled up at him. "Are you all right?" she asked.

"Just fine, pumpkin pie," he replied. "Feel a second wind coming on and raising the old bang flag again."

Maid Harley grinned and kissed him. "I'm so glad I can spend the remainder of my days with my outlaw," she murmured. "Free and happy and loved."

"Yeah, looks like it's a happy ending for the bad guys after all," agreed Robbin' Joker. "That's unusual, but kinda nice, huh?"

"Yeah," agreed Maid Harley. "Do you think Robbin' Joker and Harley Quinn and their Merry Men are gonna have many more adventures together? Do you think our adventures will eventually pass into legend? Do you think people are gonna read stories about us one day and wish they could be as free and happy as we are?"

He kissed her. "On my word as an outlaw, toots," he murmured. "I guarantee it."

 **The End**


End file.
